A Pirate's Past
by Black Charity
Summary: Post POTC1. Jack decides to set right some past errors, and hopefully help Will save Elizabeth in the process! More pirates plus supernatural stuff. NOT related to POTC2. Mostly JOc, slight JA and JE, mostly WE. Just read it! COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters, and unfortunately never will.

A Pirate's Past

_It wasn't every day you escape from the noose_, thought Jack as he stared out to the horizon. He looked behind him and could just make out two tiny figures embracing on the edge of the precipice from which he had fallen. Or rather, tumbled off in a desperate attempt to escape. Which was working, as far as he could tell.

Jack tore his gaze away from Will and Elizabeth. Even if they couldn't see that he was looking at them, he felt he was intruding on their intimate moment. He had better things to do. Such as figuring out why the _HELL_ the navy ships weren't hot on his tail already.

The sun sank lower in the sky as the _Black Pearl _sailed further away from Port Royal. And yet, as the fort dwindled to a faint smudge on the horizon, there was still no sign of the navy.

_Strange_, thought Jack. _I would've figured ol' Commodore would be breathin' down me neck by now. _Ah, well. It didn't really matter. He had his ship again, and his freedom. What more could a man want?

Jack sighed with contentment. For a moment, he allowed his mind to wander, to enjoy the approaching dusk and the brisk sea wind hitting his face, sharpening his senses. He merely rested his hand on the oiled wood of the wheel, letting the _Pearl_ and fate guide them where they would. His thoughts drifted back to Elizabeth and his parting words to her..._"Elizabeth - it would have never worked out between us, darling. I'm sorry..."_

Indeed, he was sorry. Sorry that he hadn't been more explicit about his feelings for her. Sorry that Will had found her first. Sorry that he had drunk so much on that island...but then again, he wasn't exactly one to go all mushy on someone he cared about. Hell, he wasn't even one to get attached as deeply as Will had to one person. For one thing, it was too dangerous in his profession. Anyone could betray you. That was why love was too risky for a pirate. And for another, Jack just wasn't that type of man. He couldn't stand the idea of commitment, let alone staying in one place for anything or anyone. He was too much of a libertine to do that.

Jack smiled to himself and began humming Elizabeth's pirate song. Then, just as the sun slid slowly behind the horizon, his eyes darkened. He pulled himself out his reverie and thought about the task at hand. Where was Deadeye Alderman?

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Elizabeth nestled deeper into Will's arms. The sunset was beautiful, but the same wind that allowed Jack's escape created bone-chilling gusts that cut through Elizabeth's thin dress. It had been sweltering earlier, but the hotter it was during the day, the cooler it was at night. This being the Caribbean, it couldn't get _TOO _cold, but right now was probably the coldest it had been all year. It was somewhat strange, but Elizabeth didn't dwell on it. She was with Will. Why should she care what the temperature was? If she was cold, she had Will to keep her warm.

Will felt Elizabeth's involuntary shiver as a fresh breeze ruffled their hair, and wrapped his cloak tighter around them both. Elizabeth stood with her back to his chest, his arms around her, holding the blood red cloak shut to keep them both warm. He rested his cheek against her temple, breathing in her slightly soapy, flowery scent. Her hair was soft against his face, silky and smooth, like her skin. He could feel her every breath, and the warmth radiating from her slight form. He still couldn't quite believe that this was real, that after all this time they could finally be together.

Will exhaled behind her, his breath gently caressing her neck. Elizabeth felt goosebumps run down her spine, and it wasn't because of the chill. In fact, she realized, she wasn't even cold at all.

"Will," she began, but stopped.

"What is it?" he prompted, his voice like smooth dark chocolate to her ears.

"D'you think Jack'll be alright?"

Will couldn't help but smile. "Of course he will, Elizabeth; you forget: 'He's Cap'n Jack Sparrow!'"

Elizabeth grinned at Will's gruff imitation of Jack's accent. It was surprising how close the three of them had become in such a short time. She didn't think she could bear it if he escaped only to be caught and brought back to be hanged...again. And the next time, she knew, her father and Commodore Norrington would not be nearly as lenient. "I'm glad," she said. "I wouldn't want to watch him hang. He's a good man."

"Good pirate," countered Will, and turned her around to face him. "Just as I am."

"Yes, well you," she said, smiling, running a finger along his jawline, " unlike him, do not steal riches. You, I fear, Mr. Turner, " she leaned in so that her mouth was almost touching his, " have stolen my heart."

"Aye," answered Will softly. "That I have." Then he closed the distance between them and kissed her once again.

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Commodore James Norrington paced restlessly in the Governor's study. "This can't be happening," he muttered to himself. "This can't be happening!"

"Calm yourself, Commodore Norrington!" commanded Governor Swann, Elizabeth's father. "You must accept the decision my daughter has taken - "

"Accept it!" cried James incredulously. "How can I accept it when Miss Swann promised her hand in marriage to me only to throw it all away on the - " James spat the word, " - _blacksmith!_"

"I DIDN'T FINISH COMMODORE!" bellowed Governor Swann. "As I was saying, you can accept my daughter's decision, OR we can see if there is any way we can dissuade Elizabeth from taking the path she has chosen to follow. What do you say?"

James paused. It certainly was a tempting offer. He would gain his heart's desire, Elizabeth as his wife, and get rid of that awful blacksmith-turned-pirate. Killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. But he was a man of the law, trusted to uphold righteousness and justice. And following the Governor's course of action would DEFINITELY be against the law, not to mention just plain wrong. What right did they have over Will and Elizabeth's lives? But, then again...

"I - I'll think about it, Governor Swann." James barely managed to choke out the phrase. It was wrong, but he wanted Elizabeth _so much_... "If you'll excuse me sir," continued James, "I have some business to attend to."

Governor Swann nodded and waved a hand dismissing him. As James shut the door behind him, he missed seeing the secret, malicious smile on Weatherby Swann's face.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** See first chaper

Jack sat in his usual darkened corner in the Faithful Bride, nursing his rum and brooding. And for the first time that Anamaria could remember, Jack wasn't partying and getting as drunk as possible. He was just sitting alone at his table, staring into the depths of his tankard, lost in his own world. Anamaria seized her own mug of ale and wove her way in and out of the fighting drunks and coquettish women looking for a paying customer to warm their beds that night. She plunked herself down in front of Jack and slammed her cup onto the table for exta emphasis.

Jack had been deep in the process of pondering his problem when Anamaria's loud arrival startled him. He yelled in surprise and toppled backwards off his stool, sending his untouched rum flying everywhere.

"Jack!" shouted Anamaria, leaning over the table to look at him. "You alright?"

Jack stood up and grimaced. He was covered in spilled alcohol, and the dust from the floor had clung to the wet patches of sticky rum. He attempted to brush of the worst of the grime, but only succeeded in smearing it. "Yeah," he sighed, sitting back down. "I'm fine."

Anamaria lowered herself back onto her chair. "Sorry," she said. "Didn't mean t'give ye such a fright. What's up? Why aren't you drinking your brains out like you normally do?"

Jack sighed. For a moment, he twiddled his chunky emerald and tarnished silver ring around on his finger. Then he looked up into Anamaria's face and she got the shock of her life.

She wasn't looking at the same man. Jack no longer was the half-insane, irresponsible and carefree man she sailed under. He looked older; his face lined and hard. His eyes were haunted, the mischievous spark that had once been there had vanished. It was as if the Jack she knew was replaced by someone twenty years older and had lost everything he held dear. A Jack with a scar cut deep across his soul.

"Ana, " Jack sighed, "There are times when even th'notorious Cap'n Sparrow has his lows. Ye don't know my past, and ye don't want t'know. Just know one thing: I look for the man who did this."

Jack pulled down the left side of his shirt to reveal two charcoal black bullet scars just over his heart. Anamaria knew those scars. But there was something that didn't match up...

"Jack, " said Anamaria suspiciously, "You told us ye got those back in yer India days, 'round the same time ye got that brand on yer arm."

Jack shook his head. "No. Not in India. Not in the run-in with the East India Company. Before that. Long before that. Long before ye even knew me. Back in me younger glory days..."

Jack trailed off with a faraway look in his eyes. Anamaria had the sense not to laugh. This was serious, no matter how funny it was that Jack should think his glory days were behind him. (As far as Ana knew, Jack was living his glory days, and these weren't going to be his last.) She waited for Jack to continue, but when he didn't, she couldn't stop herself.

"Jack? What does this have to do with anything?"

Jack's mind came back to the present and the reminesence in his eyes faded. His gaze hardened when he turned his eyes to Anamaria. "Nothing. It's just somethin' I hafta do."

"But Jack - "

"No buts!" snarled Jack. Anamaria felt a twinge of fear. Never had she seen Jack looking so murderous. This was the second time in less than ten minutes that Jack acted strange. It was beginning to worry her. After many years of successful piracy, was the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow finally starting to lose his mind?

"No buts," repeated Jack in the same threatening tone."and no more questions. I don' wanna talk about it. An' you'd better be holdin' yer tongue unless ye wanna end up like Cotton." He turned to leave.

"Wait!" shouted Anamaria, though she didn't move from her seat and attempt to follow him. She knew better than to follow Jack when he was acting like this. "Where are you going?"

"To the _Pearl_," called Jack over his shoulder. And then he was gone, vanished into the tavern crowd.

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Elizabeth woke up snug under the covers of her four poster. She and Will had left the fort when the sun had gone down and the last vestiges of daylight were fading. He had taken her to his humble abode, situated just behind the smithy, and they had cooked dinner together, with a lot of laughing and spilled ingredients. Will was an accomplished cook from his years of batching, but Elizabeth had been raised with food ready prepared on the table when she awoke. It was quite an experience for them both: Elizabeth laughing at her own hopelessness at domestic skills while Will smilingly corrected her and marvelled at her inability to use a spatula. After eating their simple meal, Will had walked her home and then headed back to the smithy, but not before planting a short but sweet goodbye kiss on her cheek.

_The perfect end to a perfect evening_, thought Elizabeth._ I just wish it hadn't been so cold yesterday. We could've gone for a walk on the beach. _

In fact, she realized, it was still fairly chilly. Was it only early morning? She glanced at the clock. No, in fact it was almost noon. Why had her maids let her sleep in so late? Elizabeth sat up, flinging the covers back in the process.

She gasped. It wasn't chilly. It was positively _icy_. Despite the fact that she was inside, she could see her breath. The Caribbean never got this cold! Something was wrong; terribly, terribly wrong.

Elizabeth ran to her balcony doors and threw them open. A frigid gust of air slapped her face, as the blinding noon sun reflected off _something_ into her eyes.

Squinting in the dazzling glare, Elizabeth wrapped her arms around herself and stepped out onto the balcony. Instantly, she leapt back inside with a yelp. It couldn't be...this was the Caribbean, for God's sake! There shouldn't be _snow_ this far south!

Elizabeth looked down at the glistening balcony where her footprints were still visible. Slowly, she reached down and scooped up a handful of the icy crystals and let them melt in her hand. She wasn't dreaming. There was snow on her balcony, where no snow should be. In fact, she realized with a jolt, the entire town was covered in a blanket of the stuff. Only the fort was discernible from the rest of the houses, jutting out above them like an extra large cake in a baker's window. The sky, normally the trademark cerulean blue of the Caribbean, was overcast and grey, heavy with the promise of more snow. The sun, so bright moments ago, was now covered by the fast-moving clouds.

Elizabeth turned her gaze away from Port Royal and gasped. The sea...as far as she could see, the normally tranquil waters were white. The ocean was frozen over.

Elizabeth began to feel afraid. Whatever was happening wasn't natural. This was a tropical climate - it shouldn't get cooler than 65 degrees farenheit, much less snow. She tore her horrified gaze away from the now-glacial sea to the sky. The sun was completely covered by cloud. The next snowfall was already on its way.

Elizabeth shivered, and realized her fingers had gone numb. She quickly retreated back into her bedroom and shut the doors. She then dressed herself in her simplest - and the warmest she had - gown and headed downstairs.

She met her maid at the foot of the stairs. "Good morning, Miss Swann," she said in a subdued voice. "I was just comin' to wake you for lunch."

Elizabeth smiled faintly at her maid. "Thank you." Her maid only nodded her head and went on her way.

Elizabeth headed towards the dining room, lost in thought. Why was the weather so strange?

She came to the dining room doors and paused. She took a deep breath and, holding her head high, marched in.

Her father was already seated at the head of the table, as was his customary place. He looked up when she entered. "Ah," he said, turning his attention back to his food, "Good morning, Elizabeth, or rather, good afternoon. I trust you slept well."

Elizabeth couldn't believe it. There was _snow _outside, the ocean was _frozen over_, and her father was acting like it wasn't happening! What was wrong with him? Didn't he understand that there was something amiss?

"Is that all you have to say?" Elizabeth practically shrieked. "There's _SNOW _outside! The _OCEAN_ is frozen solid! And all you say to me is 'I trust you slept well!' Don't you have any commun sense! Can't you see there's something wrong here!"

Her father merely sighed. Even in the innermost rooms of the house, his breath was visible. Governor Swann looked at his daughter like she was crazy.

"Don't speak to me in that tone of voice again," he said in a dangerously soft voice. "Now sit down and eat your lunch." He resumed eating.

Elizabeth was fuming, but she resentfully approached the table and sat down. She _was_ hungry... She picked up her knife and fork and slowly began to cut up her filet of salmon. She put the first bite in her mouth and nearly choked. The normally exquisite fish was like flakes of paper in her mouth. How could she eat such a rich meal when she had been perfectly happy eating a simple one yesterday? The cold silence between her and her father only grew as Elizabeth attempted to stomach the meal, her fingers clumsy in the icy air. Suddenly, she couldn't take it anymore. There was snow outside, and she was trying to eat a meal she knew she never could or would stomach.

Elizabeth stood up, her heavy chair scraping loudly against the marble floor. "I'm sorry Father, but I suddenly find that I'm not hungry. So if you'll excuse me..." She headed towards the door, her heels tapping smartly against the hard floor, betraying her haste to leave.

Her hand was on the doorhandle when she heard her father's chair grate against the floor. "Wait!" commanded her father. She winced. She'd nearly escaped.

"Yes?" she said through clenched teeth.

"Where are you going?"

She opened the door and paused halfway out of it. "The blacksmith's," she called over her shoulder. "I'm going to see Will. It'll be warmer near the forge anyway."

With these final words, she slammed the dining room door behind her and dashed for the front door. She didn't bother looking for better shoes or a warm coat, because she knew they didn't have any in the house. They lived in the Caribbean; they had had no need of them until now. She merely ran as fast as one could in calf-high snowdrifts, heading towards the smithy. As she hurried down the road towards the center of town, far overhead, the first of many snowflakes began to fall.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **See first chapter

Jack couldn't believe it. It was impossible, not just improbable this time. The sea, his friend, mother, brother, father, sister, lover, enemy, teacher - was gone. Instead, she was replaced by something lifeless and still. All that was left of his darling ocean was a vast sheet of ice. Thick, solid, unbreakable ice.

"Alderman," Jack snarled under his breath. He hadn't thought that Deadeye would DARE go as far as to invoke the curse of Ochiri. But he had, and now the soul of the dead woman was out for revenge. Five hundred years ago, a young japanese lady had fallen in love with a sailor. Her love had sailed away to gain enough money to provide for a decent start to their home, but he had been killed. By pirates.

Ochiri became insanely angry at her man's murder, and had, out of fury and grief, vowed revenge. But sadly, she had never found her fiance's killer. She took her own life, vowing that if ever there was one foolish enough to disturb her rest, her wrath would be released upon the descendants of the pirates that had killed her love. For in death, they would find each other again, and he could tell her the identity of his murderers. And then, if her curse was awoken, and the descendants could not be found, she would wreak her vengeance on _ALL_ pirates.

Unfortunately for Jack, her man's killers had not lived long enough to provide heirs for objects of her wrath. So now that Alderman had woken Ochiri's spirit, he, not to mention all his fellow thieves and brigands, was in mortal peril. But what Jack couldn't understand was _why_ Alderman had called upon the curse. Deadeye Alderman was a pirate himself, so he was included amongst the victims of Ochiri's vengeance. It made no sense...unless Deadeye had discovered a way to safeguard himself against Ochiri's spirit.

Jack felt a an angry stirring in his chest. Deadeye Alderman...the name alone was enough to make his blood begin to boil. Alderman was the man who had shot him twice in the chest, missing his heart by mere centimeters. He had been one of Jack's most trusted comrades. They had sailed together ever since Jack was a mere cabin boy, since before he had met Bootstrap Bill, Will's father. But it had all changed when Jack had attacked a Spanish ship.

Back in those days, he was a "gentleman pirate". He never took a life, but robbed and thieved by means of threats, wit and charm. He had a way with women; it always seemed like they didn't mind giving up their jewellery to him, especially when he asked so nicely. They always did it with a look of fear and concealed excitement. Most of them had never met an outlaw before.

It was on one occasion, the Spanish ship, when Jack finally met his match. He had lined up all the merchants and passengers into a row, and walked down in front of them with a rough burlap sack.

"Drop your valuables into the sack, and you'll all be sailing on your merry way before you can say 'Black Pearl,'" said Jack, holding open the sack with a cheery grin on his face. Back then, he had had less trinkets dangling in his hair, and he had been wearing a dull green bandana instead of his now-customary red one. He had also not yet come into posession of his favorite tricorn hat.

He started to walk their ranks. Grudgingly, they had surrendered their trinkets, and Jack's sack was soon clinking with many priceless baubles. And then he reached the last prisoner. A passenger on the vessel, bound for South America. She had been wearing a heavy cloak of rich indigo velvet; its hem just brushing the boards of the deck, its hood obscuring her face. A violet and black dress embroidered with gold thread peeked out from the folds of the cloak.

Jack stopped in front of her, and waited expectantly. He had not yet acquired his drunken, rolling stride, nor his slightly insane habits and manner of speech. "Miss," he said imperiously. "Your valuables please."

A feminine voice, low and pleasantly husky with a Castillan accent, answered. "I have no things of value, senor pirata. Leave me in peace."

Jack snorted. "C'mon miss! You expect me to believe that dressed like that, you do not posess _anything_ worth stealing _at all_?"

The woman replied simply, "Yes. I own only the clothes on my back and a small sachel of personal effects in my cabin."

Jack studied her out of the corner of one eye. "Very well," he began, starting to pace back and forth in front of her like a caged predator. "If that is so, miss, then why do you not remove your hood?"

The woman responded with a stony silence.

Jack cocked an eyebrow. He knew she was hiding something. He stopped pacing to stand directly in front of her, less than a foot away. When she did not recoil from his proximity, he noticed. It was not every woman who could stand unflinchingly before a pirate. _She certainly had guts_, thought Jack, _I'll give her that much._

"Take off your hood," commanded Jack in a quiet voice, "and I will not take it off for you."

She raised her hands to grasp the edges of her cowl. Jack saw that her hands were untrembling; she was not afraid of him. Then, seeming to take an eternity, she slowly lifted the hood of her head and pushed it back to rest on her shoulders.

Jack tried to control the awe that he knew was trying to register on his face. There, standing less than twelve inches away, was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Her skin was the color of caramel; it was smooth and perfect without a single blemish. Her face was beautiful, like it was sculpted by the most talented artists in all the world: she had a soft rounded nose and full sensual lips, high cheekbones and the most beautiful shade of intense blue eyes, big eyes that were rimmed in long dark lashes that could either pierce your soul or melt it completely. Her heart-shaped face was framed by gorgeous jet black locks, tumbling down her back in even, shining waves. Her hair was the sea; a dark and changing sea, that could either trap you in its luster or else take you somewhere glorious.

But there was a cold quality to her beauty, like the magnificence of an iceberg. It was untouchable, and so was she. And yet - Jack could see, buried deep in the blue ocean of her eyes, that there was a warmth. A faint warmth, like the last glow of a candle wick just before its ember is extinguished. There was a true, open beauty buried under her superficial, closed loveliness - if she let herself be free, then none in the world could match her, either by looks or by character.

Jack found his voice, but it was soft and hoarse, like he had forgotten how to use it. "Your valuables, miss," he said, holding open the sack. He suddenly became aware that the entire ship was silent, entranced by this gorgeous woman gracing the decks with her presence. Entranced, entrapped, ensnared by her - just as he was.

The woman sighed, and the moment was broken. She fingered the thin gold chain around her neck, then traced the contours of her glittering bracelets. She stared down at the deck, biting her bottom lip. Then she raised her head and looked Jack dead in the eyes.

He felt his knees go weak.

"No, senor pirata, I think today I will be keeping my jewellery."

Some part of Jack began to protest loudly at this impudent reply, but the other part of him merely accepted what she said and wanted desperately for her to say 'senor pirata' again in that wonderfully seductive accent of hers.

Jack shook himself out of his daze. He was a pirate, for God's sake! He had seen beautiful women before, and had slept with quite a few of them. He shouldn't be getting sentimental over a hostage! And yet...he was. He knew he should just let her go - he couldn't imagine forcefully taking her trinkets anymore than he could imagine sinking the _Pearl_. But he didn't want her to leave.

"Well then," began Jack, thinking quickly, "I guess I have no choice." He motioned at a crewmember. This was all now so long ago he could no longer who had been part of his crew back then. "Escort this young lady to the brig and show her our best hospitality." He addressed the woman again. "If you will not surrender your valuables, then you will be residing on the _Black Pearl _until such a time you see fit to do so. Off you go."

The woman was led away, and Jack quickly left the plundering to his crew. He ran after his new captive.

"Wait!" he called, and the woman, under guard of a crewmember, turned. "Forgive my rudeness, miss, but I forgot to introduce myself. I'm sure you will want to know on whose ship you will be staying."

The woman nodded shortly.

Jack took a deep breath. Why did he feel so nervous all of a sudden? "Cap'n Jack Sparrow at your service, miss," he said, sweeping a low bow.

The woman regarded him through cold blue eyes as he straightened. Jack stood trapped in her gaze, beginning to feel highly fidgety and embarassed, as though he had done something wrong, when in fact he had not.

"May - may I inquire to know your name, miss?" asked Jack haltingly. He had never felt more ill at ease since he had - well, since a long time.

The woman studied him with those stunning, cold eyes. After a moment, she replied in a soft voice, "My name is Dona Esperanza. That is all you need to know." Then she turned and went below decks.

Jack smiled to himself at the memory. Ah, his Dona Esperanza...she was so beautiful, so lovely - but he would never see her again. And it was all because of Deadeye Alderman.

Jack felt the fury surge within him. He could not even sooth his troubled soul by sailing the Caribbean: the sea was frozen over! He could no longer even say that he would one day get his

revenge, because the curse of Ochiri could strike at any time. And it was all down to Deadeye Alderman.

Jack invisioned the moment of the cur's death. His hands around Alderman's throat, slowly tightening, squeezing the air out of Deadeye's lungs. Watching him suffer the same slow agony just as Jack had suffered those nine years ago. He could hear Deadeye's desperate choking gasps, feel his panicked hands scrabbling for a purchase to throw Jack off; he could just imagine -

"Cap'n!"

Jack started and looked around. Anamaria was walking down the dock towards where he stood by a mooring post looking out to sea. Or rather, out to ice.

"C-Cap'n, what are w-we g-gonna do? It's f-freezing!" exclaimed Anamaria through chattering teeth. "Sea's f-frozen over; w-we're stra-stranded!"

Jack's face grew determined. "I'm not beat yet, not by a long shot." Jack paused and grew

thoughtful.

"Ca-Cap'n?"

"C'mon," said Jack, settling his features in an expression of pure determination. "Gather yer stuff and round up th'crew. We're walking 'cross th'ice."

"Wh-where are we goin'?"

Jack smiled his cocky, confident half-smile. "Port Royal."

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	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **Don't own any of these people exect Deadeye Alderman and Dona Esperanza...

Will wiped a trickle of sweat off his forehead. He pumped the bellows a couple of times and the fire roared in response. He peered intently into the flames, silently wondering why the coals were taking so long to heat this morning. He'd been at this since the crack of dawn, and the bloody fire _STILL _wasn't hot enough for him to start anything.

He fruitlessly pumped the bellows again and observed the slight flare of the flames before they resumed their habitual crackling.

"Dammit!" swore Will, frustratedly kicking the side of the furnace. He was still hopping about on one foot when there was a rapid knocking on the door.

Will sighed. It was probably Commodore Norrington coming to harass him again. He still had bruised ribs from their last encounter. He hobbled over to the door and opened it.

He was knocked back a step as an icy gust of air rushed into the forge, instantly dousing any feeble flames that were still left. His guest came in with the wind, swiftly slamming the door, but not fast enough to keep out all the snowflakes.

"What on earth - ! Is that _snow_! What - Elizabeth!" exclaimed Will. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I'm t-trying to g-get out of the s-snow," replied Elizabeth, her teeth chattering violently. She advanced towards the fire's embers, rubbing her arms and shivering.

Will hurried to the bellows and set about rekindling the fire. Elizabeth was drenched from head to toe: snow clung to her sodden locks, and had settled on her shoulders. Her lips were blue, and both her hands were red from the cold. She was shivering and her teeth were chattering.

Will straightened up from the fire and ushered Elizabeth onto a chair close to the hearth. He knelt at her feet and took her hands in his.

"God, you're freezing!" he said, furiously rubbing her hands to restore warmth. "Did you walk all the way from your house in this weather?"

Elizabeth's teeth were chattering too much for her to reply, so she merely nodded.

Will shook his head. "You shouldn't have come. It would have been better for you if you had stayed inside. If it really is that cold, you should've stayed at home and kept warm, instead of coming out all this way in the snow to see me."

"I-it's n-not that," she said. "I had a f-fight with my f-father. And it's w-warmer here an-anyway."

Will smiled wryly. "Not by much. I was having trouble getting the fire started this morning and now I guess I know why. Honestly, you should have stayed at home. At least you would've been warm."

"No," replied Elizabeth vehemently. "Anywhere you are is better than where my father is."

Will stopped trying to warm up Elizabeth's hands and looked up into her face. He didn't need to say anything. His eyes said it all. "You have snow in your hair," he said softly, and rose to his feet. He gently trailed a finger across her collarbone as he walked around behind her. Then, his fingers light and careful, he began to pull the chunks of solidified snow out of her hair.

Elizabeth shivered, both from cold and from Will's affectionate touch. The warmth from the flickering fire was helping, but it was more Will's fingers brushing her neck than anything else. She stared sleepily into the flames, lulled by the crackling heat, when suddenly she felt Will brush her hair aside and kiss her neck. She opened her mouth to protest, but lost all words when he moved his mouth to gently kiss the place where her jaw and neck met.

She closed her eyes and sighed. His breath was soft on her neck as he whispered in her ear. "Are you still cold?"

She stood and smiled, stepping forwards so he could take her, still slightly damp, into his embrace. Elizabeth grinned coyly as she looked up at him, her head cocked to one side, as she replied. "Just a little...maybe you should - "

The rest of her sentence was cut of as Will bent his head to claim her mouth once again.

For a few all too short moments, Elizabeth allowed herself to be lost in that kiss. To forget all her worries, the snow outside, and all the things that could tear them apart. For it to be only her and Will, alone where everyone would let them be, was too much to ask in the restictive society in which she was raised. He was a blacksmith, and she was the governor's daughter. They loved each other. Was it _really_ too much to ask?

Elizabeth reluctantly broke the kiss. "We can't," she said softly. "Not at a time like this."

"A time like what?"

"It's just - " she sighed. "There's _snow_ outside, Will. Snow where there should never be any. And it's not getting any better, it's getting worse. Do you really think this is the time, or for that matter, the place?"

Will, however grudgingly, had to admit she was right. "No," he replied, "you're right. We have to figure out what's causing this. We can't just sit around slowly freezing to death while the Navy runs around like a bunch of headless chickens."

Elizabeth smiled at the image Will's metaphor conjured. She laid her head on his chest and he obligingly held her closer. She sighed. "I agree. We have to do something. The authorities are too bogged down in bureaucracy and tradition to know how to handle a crisis like this."

"We have to find out what's causing it. Snow in the Caribbean isn't natural. Someone's behind this."

"Not - not Barbossa - "

"No," interrupted Will sharply. "Barbossa's dead. He's not coming back. It's someone else."

Elizabeth was silent. She knew Will was right: Barbossa _was_ dead. But why was she still afraid of him? "If it's not Barbossa, then who is it?" she asked.

Will shrugged. "I have no idea. But we're definitely going to have to find out. The snow could kill off everyone and everything down here. No one's prepared for a cold like this. Look what happened to you. Not everybody will be as fortunate."

"We can't do this by ourselves. We have no way to contact any of the colonies and no one here is going to know anything. We're going to need help."

Will grinned. "Of course. And I think I know just the man for the job..."

Elizabeth felt the slow beginnings of a smile creep across her face. "Jack Sparrow."

Will nodded. "That's him. If anyone knows anything about this, Jack will."

"But we don't even know where he is, or even if he's alive."

"I wouldn't worry," replied Will, resting his cheek on the top of her head. "If I know Jack, he's fine. And if he's anything like the man I think he is, he's already on his way here."

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	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: **Don't own any of these people, except those that weren't in the movie.

Governor Swann calmly set down his knife and fork. They hit the table at the exact moment he heard the front door slam: Elizabeth, leaving no doubt for the blacksmith's.

Governor Swann shook hid head. How could his daughter, admittedly headstrong at times, have gone so far astray? Why couldn't she just see that Will was not the man for her? The Commodore was everything Will wasn't, and besides, James Norrington was a man on the right side of the law. William consorted with all sorts of ruffians and scoundrels. He was the son of a pirate, for God's sake! Now that he knew the boy's parentage, he was DEFINITELY sure that William Turner was _not _the type of person he wanted his daughter to keep company with, much less court and marry.

Governor Swann snapped his fingers. Immediately, a servant appeared and began to clear his lunch dishes, but Governor Swann stayed his hands.

"No, man, I'm not finished yet. But there is something else you can do for me." He beckoned the servant closer. He whispered conspiratorily into his ear, "If you would be so kind as to send for the Commodore, I would be much inclined to give you an extra little something on your monthly salary."

The servant's eyes widened. He was supporting a wife and two small children on his meager pay, and any surplus money would greatly help their upkeep. "Of course sir," he replied, trying to hide his excitement. Michael could have new boots now, and since the weather was beyond the paranormal, he would need them.

The servant hurried out of the room. Governor Swann waited until he heard the front door slam once again before he picked up his silverware once again. With a secret grin of hidden malice on his jowlly face, he began to eat the remains of his lunch.

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Jack grimaced. He knew that Tortuga was probably not the best place to leave his beloved ship, but there was no conceivable way for him to take the _Pearl _with him all the way to Port Royal. Not with the sea frozen solid as it was. But with half the crew behind as a guard, he reasoned his ship would be reasonably safe, so long as no one bought the treasure-susceptible crew off.

He shivered. It was _so_ bloody freezing! He wrapped his salt-stiff overcoat around him a little tighter. It was old and partially threadbare. Nine years ago, when he had first received the coat, it might have provided some mesure of protection against the biting wind, but old as it was, it was pretty much useless.

He settled his hat further down over his ears and let rip a profanity when the stiff breeze whipped a string of beads into his eyes. Rubbing the bridge of his nose and muttering curses under his breath, he considered ditching the offending strand. He clawed it out of his mass of dreadlocks and examined the decoration.

It had six beads on it: two greyish-sliver ones, two red ones, one dull and the other bright, one silver hexagonal one, and one large yellow one, round and wooden. At the end of this beaded string, there hung a circular medallion, cast in the finest silver. Once it had shone like the moon, but now it was tarnished from the sea spray. From this medallion hung three silver beaded strings. Each of these things split into two fine silver chains. And at the end of the chains, there were more silver beads. It was possibly one of the more valuable and beautiful trinkets that he possessed. Dona Esperanza had given it to him.

Jack smiled a faraway smile. Ah yes...this was the second time in less than a day than he found himself slipping back into the past...

It had been several days since they had left behind the Spanish galleon. Dona Esperanza was emprisoned in one of the nicer cells in the ship's prison. And for the past three days, Jack had been furiously debating with himself the morality of locking a lady of high stature, like Dona Esperanza, in a dirty, grimy, pirate ship cell. He found, to his annoyance, that he couldn't stop thinking about her. True, she was beautiful, but, thought Jack, it seemed her beauty was only skin deep. Every crewman that had brought her meals had found her astonishingly curt and snappish. Just like the type of woman Jack preferred to avoid. And yet...she still lingered in his mind, just as her perfume had lingered in the air after she had been escorted below decks.

Jack sighed. He adjusted the wheel slightly so the bow of the _Pearl_ was aiming directly towards the setting sun, and he thought about Dona Esperanza...again.

Jack slapped the wood of the wheel and swore loudly in frustration. This wouldn't do! WHY wouldn't she just leave his thoughts in peace?

"Stubbs!" called Jack. A nearby crewmember looked around. "Take the wheel for a while, but give her her head. Let the _Pearl_ take us where she will."

Stubbs nodded curtly and stepped up to take the helm. A short man, he could barely see over the wheel when he stood behind it. As Jack ran down to the main deck, he would have laughed at the comical sight if he hadn't been in such a hurry.

Jack ran down the stairs to the ship's kitchens. "Hey, Ham!" he shouted. He wasn't being insulting, the Pearl's cook's name was Matthew Hamm, but everyone called him "Ham-Hands", Ham for short. And he wasn't called "Ham-Hands" for nothing. Matthew was an enormous brute of a man, with a huge bulk and huge hands to match. It was a foolish man that dared go up against Ham-Hands.

"Oy, Ham!" yelled Jack as he dashed into the kitchens. "Have you sent the lady's supper yet?"

Ham-Hands merely grunted and mumbled, "Gave it t'Ben only a min'te 'go."

"Thanks, Ham." Jack dashed back out of the kitchens and headed down another level.

He arrived on the prison deck and approached her cell. He was frantically trying to think of what to say that wouldn't make him seem like a complete idiot, when he heard a thump and a muffled shriek.

Jack was instantly alert. He ran around the last corner to find the cell door unbarred and swinging wide open, with Dona Esperanza and Ben Alderman in a furious tussle on the floor.

Alderman was oblivious to Jack presence, and so was Dona Esperanza. She was too busy trying to keep Alderman off of her to notice anything else.

"Get off of me!" she screamed, sounding strangely muffled through Alderman's palm. She struggled to throw him off, but to no avail.

"ALDERMAN!" roared Jack. He didn't think. He just acted. And in this case, acting meant kicking Benjamin full in the guts.

Ben was thrown off Dona Esperanza with the force of Jack's kick. He rolled over on his side and curled up in a ball, coughing and clutching his stomach.

"You leave her alone!" shouted Jack, pointing an accusing finger at Alderman. "We don't hurt people to get what we want! Isn't that the code we live by! Get up, Alderman! You digust me! Get out of my sight!"

Alderman hauled himself to his feet and hobbled as fast as he could out of the cell.

Once the thump of his boots had faded from hearing, Jack turned to Dona Esperanza, who was crouching in a fetal position in the corner. The only sound in the room was the faint drip of water and her ragged breathing.

"Miss?" Jack squatted down to her level. "Miss, are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

She didn't reply. But her shoulders began to shake. Jack felt a pang. She was crying.

"Miss? Miss, are you - " The rest of his sentence was cut off when she flung herself forward into his unsuspecting arms. Jack was so surprised that for a few seconds, he merely sat there with her arms around him. When he finally came to his senses, he cautiously put wrapped his arms around her. She didn't recoil at his touch, so he held her a little tighter. Cradling her head in the back of his hand, he let her cry herself out. They stayed like that, with Jack running a hand though her hair, until she drifted off to sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Yeah, yeah - y'all know it by now: i don't own any of these characters, unless they weren't in POTC1...

Governor Swann was in his study. It was getting late, and Elizabeth still wasn't back. The snow outside was coming down harder than ever; he could hardly see the edge of the adjoining balcony. It had been hours since he had sent for the Commodore. Although, considering the weather conditions, he was not very surprised that James was late.

Suddenly there was a knocking at his study door. "Come in," he called imperiously, turning to see who it was.

The door opened and Commodore James Norrington came in, out of breath and still covered in snow.

"I beg your pardon for my lateness, Governor; I was unavoidably detained. The carriage horses wouldn't go out in conditions like this, so I'm afraid I had to walk."

Governor Swann smiled condescendingly, as if he was addressing a particularly stupid child who would not believe one plus one equals two. "That's perfectly understandable, James," he said pompously. "It _is_ a long way from the fort. Come, sit by the fire and thaw yourself."

Governor Swann indicated a comfy chair by the hearth, and James gratefully sat down. "I apologize for my dampness, Governor, but the weather really is appalling."

Governor Swann snorted. "Nonsense. I don't care how soggy you are James, I just hope your ears are still working after that long cold walk."

"Of course, sir."

"Well then," Governor sat down in the chair opposite the Commodore's. "Listen closely."

Commodore Norrington obligingly leaned in closer, dislodging a clump of snow from his shoulder to go sliding into the fire with a hiss.

"I know you love my daughter, James; don't try to deny it. And I also know that you'd do just about anything to get her back from that lowborn pirate-friendly blacksmith."

"Anything that's on the right side of the law; of course sir."

Governor Swann shook a chiding finger at James. "No, no, James; you see, what you don't seem to realize is that you ARE the law. You're the highest ranking officer in Port Royal. Your word IS the law. You can do anything you want! You love Elizabeth, yes?"

James was taken off guard by the sudden change of subject. "With all my heart, sir. She means the world to me."

"And you'd do anything for her, is that correct?"

James nodded. "Ye-es," he said slowly. The Governor was up to something.

"Then if you are a man, I have a proposition for you."

James's eyes widened at the sheer audacity of Governor Swann's plan. "Sir, that's - "

"Illegal, I know. Probably worthy of the noose. But if it works, we'll never have to worry about William Turner loving my daughter ever again. Or any other woman, if we - you -do this correctly."

"Me, Governor? A man of the law, m - "

"Yes, James. You. I'm too old. You're still strong enough to pull this off."

James was silent. "Are you sure this is the only way?" he queried finally.

Governor Swann nodded. "Of course it is. Have you seen the way they look at each other, the way they...kiss...each other? There's no way we'll separate them otherwise. So, what do you say, James; will you do it?"

James knew he was about to cross the line. But the Governor was right - there was no way he could woo Elizabeth. At least...not when William Turner was still alive.

"Yes, Governor Swann. I'll do it. I'll kill the blacksmith."

"Tonight," added Governor Swann. "You'll do it tonight."

Commodore Norrington rose to his feet and stared blindly out into the raging blizzard. "Yes," he said, his heart and features hardening. "I will kill him tonight."

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Elizabeth woke with a start. Where was she? This was not her bed. This was not her room. Suddenly, she felt the arm around her waist shift, and instantly remembered. She was at the smithy. With Will.

She had stayed talking with him about the strange weather, fully intending to return home when the storm lessened. But unfortunately, the storm hadn't lessened; it had only gotten worse. Will had known it was getting late, and had also noticed her agitation. She did not like to impose, but the blizzard was really too awful to venture out in.

Will had known that Elizabeth would want to return home, but one glance outside told him it would be suicide for her to try. The thought of her losing her way in the snow and freezing to death was terrifying - to lose her to a storm, for her to die alone in the cold...it was too awful for him to comtemplate. So, when she had shrugged on her meager dressing gown, preparing to leave, he had desperately pleaded her not to risk her life just to please her father. He had asked her to stay with him, in relative warmth and safety, until the storm abated. Elizabeth had only looked at him a moment before she tugged off her coat.

"I thought you'd never ask," she said, and plopped herself down by the fire with a smile.

Will had looked stunned for a second before he too cracked a grin. Then he had joined her by the hearth for an evening of talk, warmth, hugs, and kisses.

He'd insisted she take the only bed, that he'd be fine on the floor. But Elizabeth wouldn't stand for it. If he slept on the floor with the draughts and wintry gusts, then she would too. He hadn't wanted her to sleep in discomfort, so he'd reluctantly accepted to share the narrow mattress.

She smiled at the remembrance of his awkwardness. He was uncomfortable with the idea of sharing a bed with a woman to whom he was not married, even though they were more than likely to tie the knot sooner or later. But he had climbed into bed with her, trying his best to keep a decent distance between them. Unfortunately, keeping a "decent distance" on that tiny bed meant he was constantly slipping off the edge of the mattress to hit the floor with a thump.

When he had once again woke her by falling out of bed, Elizabeth silently rolled her eyes in exhasperation. There _was_ such a thing as having an over-developed sense of propriety. So when he'd climbed back into bed, she'd rolled over and had snuggled up to him. He had protested, but she'd held a finger to his lips. "I'm cold, Will. Hold me."

She'd rolled back over and had put her back to his chest. He'd hesitantly put his arms around her. When she didn't protest, but sighed with contentment in place of his feared rejection, he became slightly more confident. "Warmer?" he asked softly, his breath soft on her neck.

"Mmm," she said contentedly, snuggling closer to him, "Much better. Now just don't move all night, and I think I'll be alright."

Will smiled in the smithy's darkness. She'd been planning this all along. "Anything for you, love," he said, and had kissed her neck before laying his head back on the pillow. In a short while, they were both asleep.

Elizabeth smiled, and shifted slightly. The arm around her waist tightened its hold, but only a little. Will mumbled something in his sleep and moved closer to her. Elizabeth closed her eyes. She had never been happier. She was safe, warm, well-fed, and loved by the most amazing man in the whole world. Who could ask for more than that?

She had been on the point of drifting back off to sleep, but then from outside there was an enormous cracking, rending sound, as if the roofs of the whole town were being torn off at once. It grated on her ears and send bone-chilling shivers sliding down her spine. The contentment she had felt only moments ago evaporated to be replaced by cold fear.

Will, at the first rending screech, was wide awake. He felt Elizabeth tense in his arms, and held her closer. What the hell was that? The noise was truely awful; it was making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the sound ended.

"What was that, Will?" asked Elizabeth, her trembling voice sounding dead in the sudden silence.

Will only wished he knew. Maybe then he wouldn't feel so god-damned scared shitless. Something terrible was going to happen - and it involved them both, he could feel it in his bones.

"I don't know, Elizabeth," he replied, his words still hoarse from sleep.

"Something's not right, Will; they're coming for me."

Will became even more deeply concerned than he already was. "What do you mean, Elizabeth? Who's coming for you?" His heart beat faster at the thought of her being taken from him - it had been awful when Barbossa had taken her; he didn't want that to happen again. "Who's coming for you?" he asked even more urgently.

"The ones from the nightmare," she whispered

Will instantly felt a strange sense of relief. "Elizabeth, it's just a dream."

He could feel her shaking her head. "No," she murmured, "I dreamed Barbossa would come - he did. And now - " Her voice caught in her throat. "Please don't let them take me," she whispered, almost begging. "Please."

Will was shocked by this revelation. She had known Barbossa would come? And now she feared whatever was now "coming for her". This was too much to take in all at once. It was only the realization that she was shaking that brought him back to earth.

He held her close, as if to protect her from things that weren't even there yet - if they were even real. "Don't worry," he said, his voice husky, "I'm not even sure if they're coming for you, or if they're even real. But I swear to you, I won't let them take you. Do you hear me?" He took her face in his hands. "I will _not_ let them take you. I will keep you safe."

Elizabeth nodded. Will could feel the dampness on her face. She was crying. "How do you even know that they're real?" he continued, "And if they are, how do you know they'll come tonight?"

Elizabeth was crying so hard she could barely choke the words out. "Because they're already here," she said in a rushed, terrified whisper, hoarse from her tears.

Will opened his mouth to reassure her, but then his blood ran cold. A cruel, evil chuckle echoed behind him, and then the sound of a boot hitting the floor. They were coming.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **STILL don't own POTC, and desperately want to, but probably never will.

Deadeye Alderman stood at the helm of his ship, the _Devil's Tongue_, and looked out to sea. Or rather, looked out over the ice. The wind that propelled his vessel was not natural; it was a wind conjured by Ochiri's spirits, so he could do her bidding quicker. When any other ship would have been trapped in the ice, the _Devil's Tongue _sailed forwards faster than was natural. Ochiri split the ice before his ship, and Alderman headed unhindered towards Port Royal.

They arrived in the bay, the sails deflating as the full force of the spirit wind left them. Without the howling of the wind that send the millions of snowflakes whirling in frenzied gusts, the cracking of the ice was more than audible. It was the sound of rending and tearing, of splitting and breaking. Any ordinary man would have cringed at the unworldly noise, but not Alderman. Alderman revelled in it.

Ochiri's sense of revenge had become warped beyond normal parameters. Now, instead of unleashing her wrath on the world's pirate's, she decided to do unto them as they had done unto her, all those years ago. For every pirate in the world that loved another, she would split them apart, stealing away one of the couple. Usually the woman. She wanted the pirate men to feel the same agony she had felt when her lover had been killed. She would lure the men to her lair, and then kill their love before their eyes, before killing them in turn. It was in this slow and methodical fashion that she was going to destroy the pirate of the world. But for now, she concentrated her efforts on the pirates of the Caribbean.

There was only one pirate in Port Royal; Ochiri had sensed him. The son of a true pirate, the local blacksmith - the lover of the Governor's daughter. And Alderman's duty, to safeguard himself from Ochiri's wrath, was to collect the pirate's lover: Elizabeth Swann.

He pulled himself out of the world of thoughts. He needed to focus on the task at hand. Ochiri had given him a vision; he knew exactly where the smithy was. He knew Elizabeth would be there...just as Ochiri had promised. And he was to fetch her.

He opened the door silently enough, and stood in the dark. He heard low whispers and the unmistakeable sound of sobs. He heard enough to understand one thing: the girl had known he was coming. Strange - there weren't many true clairvoyants in the world left. It was unfortunate that this girl was one of them. But luckily enough for him, Elizabeth's lover didn't seem to believe her dream could be reality.

"How do you even know that they're real?" a hoarse voice said, "And if they are, how do you know they'll come tonight?"

The girl sobbed back her response, barely comprehensible through her tears, "Because they're already here."

Alderman chuckled. She was right. And the boy was foolish. He uncrossed his arms and began his slow, delibrate advance towards the bed.

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	8. Chapter 8

**iclaimerDay: **Iay itllsay on'tday wnoay iratespay foay hetay aribbeancay, ndaay nfortunatelyuay robablypay evernay illway. Ha! Try decifering THAT disclaimer! (try pig latin)

Will groggily blinked his eyes and slowly raised his head. He was lying on the dusty floor of the smithy and the sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon. There was a pounding sensation somewhere in the back of his skull - he was pretty certain that he'd have a lump later. He didn't remember much; he remembered Elizabeth in his arms with tears running down her face, a sinister laugh, a bootstep on the floor. But beyond that...nothing.

Will painfully sat up and cradled his aching head in his heads. He didn't look up at his bed. He was afraid of what he might see. He was afraid that it would be empty.

Will suddenly found he couldn't breathe. The torment he had gone through when Elizabeth had been taken by Barbossa was too much to survive again. If she was gone again - he didn't know what he'd do. Panic, go out of his mind - no! He would not lose control. He had to get the courage at least to look - if she was still here, then he wouldn't have to worry. He could just put this little episode behind him. But if she wasn't... _No! _Will cut himself short. _Just look, god dammit, Will! Breathe - get a grip...JUST LOOK FOR GOD'S SAKE!_

Will slowly lifted his head. He couldn't bring himself to look at the bed. But, all in a rush, he turned his head slightly and looked. To his immense relief, there was a lump in the bed, buried under sheets and blankets to ward off the wintry chill. Will rose to his feet and quietly moved towards the bedside. If Elizabeth was sleeping, he didn't want to wake her.

Will sat on the edge of the bed. For a moment, he only looked at her huddled form. He couldn't quite believe that she was still here - but then again, after last night's strange events, he didn't know what to believe. After a minute's hesitation, he laid a hand on what he judged to be Elizabeth's shoulder to gently shake her awake.

To his horror, she was as cold as ice. Only one horrible thought was running though his mind: _Oh God, she's dead; they've killed her; she's DEAD!_

Will froze, his hand still on Elizabeth's cold form. He couldn't bring himself to pull back the blankets. He was in too much shock - she was dead; she had been killed, right under his nose. While he lay on the floor like a discarded rag doll; after he had promised he would protect her!

Will reached a shaking hand up to grasp the hem of the covers. In one smooth swift motion he ripped back the blankets to find -

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Oooo! What does he find? Hmm? HMM?


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: **Nope, no change, still not any closer to POTC copyright takeover. Don't own these people, Disney does. (Curses!)

James Norrington paced outside the smithy, as he had been doing for the past twenty minutes. He knew that killing Will was wrong - that as a military man, he should be trying to uphold the law, not trying to break it. He had taken such a long to get from the Governor's mansion to the smithy it was nearly daybreak. True, it had been snowing heavily, a blizzard worthy of reckoning - but it had cleared by the time he had left, lightening to a thick, but navigable snowfall. As he had made his way to the blacksmith's shop, he had purposely dawdled, although he knew he would have to do it later if he failed now. He had been so preoccupied by his thoughts that he had not even heard the ice breaking and rending, heralding the arrival of Deadeye Alderman.

James Norrington clutched the knife in his hand even more tightly, feeling the wire-bound grip cut into his palm. He stopped his pacing and squarely faced the smithy door. It was strange - when he came here in normal circomstances (to teach Will a lesson - though he'd only done that once - or to order a sword or some other piece of metalcraft) he didn't really notice the door. But now, as he came to kill the man sleeping ignorantly behind its boards, he found himself transfixed by them. Every pit, every knot, every splintering inch of it - it all need to be studied. How the grain of the wood changed from board to board, and how the metal bindings holding it all together were tarnished and worn, rusted from years of weather exposure.

James pulled himself out of his reverie: he had to carry out the task at hand.

James slowly put a hand on the ancient wooden handle, feeling the sharp prick of splinters as they entered his flesh. He began to gradually exert pressure on the handle, could hear the latch click as the door started to open.

Just as he was about to fling open the door and rush in to do his dirty work, when the most awful scream of pain and anguish erupted from the smithy. A terrible cry of heart-wrenching depth, that made those listening want to fall on their knees and weep with the hopelessness of it all. A cry of utter dispair and loss, a sound of absolute agony. Just to hear it made your heart break.

James knew that there were few circomstances when a human being could make such a sound. When a mother loses her child, or a lover loses their other half. James's heart had made that sound when he had learned where Elizabeth's affections truely laid. And Will Turner made it now.

James could practically feel his heart stop. Will would cry out in pain for one thing alone, a thing that both Will and James himself dreaded. And James knew that his worst fear had become a reality.

Elizabeth was dead.

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A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, helps keep me inspired, even if school gets in the way. And I'm sure y'all hate me right about now, cuz I mean, geez! What a terrible place to leave you people hanging! (If you'll pardon the unintentional play on words, hee hee.) But oh well. Guess you'll have to wait and find out what happens next. Maybe I should leave you high and dry (okay,the play on wordsare NOTintetional, I swear!) and just drooling with the suspense of what's gonna happen...but no, I'm not THAT mean. Or am I...?


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Tous les caracteres n'appartiennent pas a moi, et ne seront jamais les miens, jusqu'en cas ou je controle Disney. Et un dernier mot, cela indique tous les caracteres qui sont dans le film, pirates des caraibes: maladiction de la perle noire. Tout le reste sont mes propres creations. (TRANSLATION: All of the characters don't belong to me, and never will be mine, exceptin the case where I control Disney. One last word, this indicates the characters that are in the film, pirates of the caribbean: curse of the black pearl. All the rest are my own creations.) Sorry it's so long-winded.

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Jack squinted against the noonday glare reflecting off the ice. The sun, barely peeking through gathering storm clouds, was just strong enough to be caught by the thousands of ice crystals. It created a beautiful and dazzling effect to the casual observer, but for Jack and his followers it was pretty - pretty damn annoying!

Jack could barely see anything that was more than a few shiplengths in front of him. After trudging all day yesterday and last night, he and his men were footsore, weary, exhausted, cold and snowblind. Most of them, Jack included, couldn't wait to reach Port Royal, where there would be a hot fire and rum waiting in the pub. The rest really couldn't care less: they figured that by now, with nothing but more frozen ocean on the horizon, they would die out there. The least they could do was stick with the others, on the off chance Jack actually managed to get them to their destination.

Jack screwed his eyes up against the harsh light reflecting off the ice in an attempt to see if they were near any sort of land. But all he could see was more ice, and the sun's glare wasn't helping any.

Jack heard running footsteps behind him and turned his head to acknowledge Anamaria's presence.

"Hey, there - whaddaya want, Anamaria?" mumbled Jack, moving his head to look at his steadily plodding feet again.

Through chattering teeth, Anamaria wrapped her thin coat around her even more tightly and said, "How m-much f-further C-Cap'n? The men're on th-the p-point of g-giving up this c-crazy mission."

Jack shook his head wearily. "There's no point, Anamaria; we're more th'n halfway. In fact, if me calculations are right, we should be seein' the firs' sight o' land somewhere 'round four. Which, judgin' by the position of th'sun, will be in 'bout an hour or so. 's a li'l past noon."

With that, Jack lowered his head agains the wind and, settling his tricorn hat more firmly on his brow, quickened his pace.

Anamaria didn't press it. She watched his retreating back with curiousity. Why was Jack so hell-bent on reaching Port Royal? He was preoccupied, sure - but then again he generally was most of the time. It was just this time seemed somewhat different; more personal.

Anamaria smiled wryly. This was typical Jack - leading his crew off on a potentially suicidal mission without even telling them what it was about. And they followed him anyway. But even if they didn't, even if they deserted, Anamaria knew Jack would always have at least one person dogging his footsteps. Herself.

He still owed her a ship, but that was only really a pretext. Anamaria wasn't following Jack just because of that - not at all because of that, actually. She wasn't really sure if what she felt was real or not, but she'd follow him until she was sure. Did she love Jack? Anamaria smiled - only time would tell.

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A/N: Hey look! Anamaria has feelings for Jack! Where could I take THIS one, hmmm! And I'm sure y'all are drooling to know what happens to Elizabeth, but I guess ye'll hafta wait a little longer...


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** don't own these people, except for the ones one in the POTC film.

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Governor Swann paced back and forth in his study. It was well past eight o'clock - the time that Norrington had promised to be back by. Something must have gone wrong; James must have been caught. Governor Swann shook his head. A commodore, arrested by his subordinates - shameful, especially since James was the ranking officer in Port Royal. James could have ordered them to turn a blind eye, or to never speak of the incident to anyone, on pain of death.

But, the Governor knew, James was not the sort of man that killed out of cold blood - though this crime should really be qualified as a crime of heated passion - and Governor despised men that would not stand tall to do their duty. He should have know that Norrington would be too weak to kill the blacksmith. And now, seeing as Norrington was not yet back, he was presumably caught and beginning his slow rot in the fort's cold stone cell.

Governor Swann snorted. James Norrinton...he could have been great, with the help of the Governor, but now, he had fallen from grace. Governor Swann turned to his cabinet of legal documents and other such papers and began the laborious process of washing his hands of Commodore James Norrington.

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A/N: yes, I am purposely making the chapters really short. I'm going to torture you over the Elizabeth business a bit longer...but don't worry, resolution is in the next chappie! (Which I might split into a load of little chapters just to torture you further, but I haven't decided if I can be bothered to go to all that trouble...)


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **Still don't own any of these characters, except for the ones not in POTC...

A/N: And now drumroll please the moment you've all been waitin for...WHAT HAPPENED TO ELIZABETH! And no, I decided NOT to split it into loads of teeny weeny chapters just to bug you, for the simple reason that I'm too lazy to go to all that trouble. So, without, futhur ado, here it is. (get your hankies - it's sort of depressing...)

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Will stared in numb disbelief at the golden haired figure lying still on the bed. _Cold, so cold..._

Will couldn't bring himself to touch her motionless form. He didn't want to remember this - this crumpled shape that had once so full of life - he wanted to remember her as she once was. So happy, so reckless and wild. Adventurous. Beautiful, intelligent, brave...a shining star whose light seemed would never go out - he didn't want to accept that she was gone. And yet, some part of him couldn't truly believe she was actually dead.

Will wasn't aware of his sore throat, raw from screaming, or the tears running down his still-dusty cheeks. He slowly reached out a shaking hand towards her hair, lying in a pool around her head, even in death it was as beautiful as ever. But just before his work-roughened hand brushed against her curly locks, he stopped. His hand hovered only centimeters from her hair, but he could not quite bring himself to touch her. If he touched her, then the nightmare would be real and she would be dead.

Will stretched his hand out the last few centimeters and laid his palm on the back of her head, as he had done so many times in the past. She was cold, cold as the ice that surrounded them, cold as the snow on the roof outside - and unmistakeably dead.

The fact slowly penetrated his mind; he now knew - Elizabeth was dead. She had passed on to the next world, and had left him behind as she departed on her greatest, final adventure.

Once the initial shock of her death had hit, once the final truth had been realized - any remains of Will's resolve broke. Through racking sobs of pain and guilt, he gently rolled her over onto her back. He bent and put his forehead to hers, cradling her face in his hands, heedless of the shed tears that were wetting her skin. He buried his fingers in her hair, holding her to him and whispering over and over, _"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I failed you; I didn't keep you safe - I'm sorry!"_

Gradually, Will gained some measure of control over himself, and his tears subsided, to be replaced with emptiness. He gently laid Elizabeth back onto the bed, carefully resting her head on the pillow and spreading her hair around her head like a golden halo. Even in death she was as lovely as ever - eyes closed and her rosy lips parted slightly, she wore the mantle of death with grace. She seemed as if she were sleeping.

Will looked down on her motionless form - he could not bring himself to think "body" or worse, "corpse", despite the fact that that was what his vibrant Elizabeth had become - and tried to memorize her every feature. The way her hair curled, the way her lips curved, the way her eyes were only lightly closed, so it seemed she would open them at any second - the way her skin felt, the way she...breathed?

Will's heart actually skipped a beat. He had to be imagining things - if Elizabeth was alive she would have waken when he had first ripped back the covers. It was surely only wishful thinking - his imagination and grief making his eyes see things that were false. But oh, God, how he wished she still breathed!

Will turned away from her, lying on his bed, and buried his face in his hands. What would the Governor say? What would Commodore Norrington think? Would he be hung for a crime he did not do, and couldn't even comtemplate committing? But even through all of the confused thoughts and questions tumbling through his mind, one thing kept resurfacing: had she actually breathed, or was it his imagination?

Slowly, Will turned back to face the woman lying on the bed. He hesitantly reached out a hand and laid it on her neck. After a moment, he moved it to where her pulse would be beating if indeed she was still alive. And he waited, hoping against hope that he would feel something, even the faintest flutter under his fingertips, that would indicate she still lived.

Nothing.

He waited, pressing slightly harder this time in case he had missed something.

Still nothing.

Will's throat constricted and he could feel the tidal wave of sorrow building in his chest. Just for that instant, he had allowed himself a last glimpse of hope - only to have it dashed again.

Will stayed frozen, his hand still resting upon her neck, a thousand regrets running through his mind. Why hadn't he asked her to marry him? That's why he had been trying to light the forge yesterday - to add the finishing touches to a ring he had hoped to give to her. It was only in need of some last bits of shaping, and it would have been complete. He cursed his fool's pride - Elizabeth wouldn't have cared. Why hadn't he done the thing he had been meaning to do since he was seventeen?

Suddenly, Will was yanked from his woeful thoughts. For a second, he merely sat there, hand on ELizabeth's neck - it couldn't be; it had to be his imagination again. But no: it was there, albeit faintly, but it was still there. Underneath Will's fingertips, blood still ran in Elizabeth's veins.

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A/N: See? I'm not THAT mean - how could I kill off Lizzy so early in the story? What would Will's point be, then, if she croaked? I mean, honestly - the guys swordfights with himself for three hours a day. He said so himself. He's straightlaced and stays on the right side of the law, unless Liz is involved. Sure, he's good looking, but - doesn't he sound just a _teeny _bit dull to you? No offense to all y'all Orly fans out there.(like me, but I'm harsh, cuz I've still got Jack and Elizabeth to handle besides Will. Lotta personality do deal with - not to mention warp...evil chuckle!)


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't have my greedy little hands on the POTC copyright papers, and probably never will, much to the disappointment of my obsessed soul...

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James started, hand still on the smithy's doorhandle, as an elated whoop emerged from within. He didn't understand. Will had just presumably acknowledged Elizabeth's death; why else would he have made such a cry of utter agony? So what on earth was Will so happy about?

James felt an angry wave of boiling fury rise in his chest. The man that Elizabeth had loved with all her heart was celebrating her death - defiling her memory! She wasn't even lying at rest yet and Will was overjoyed at her passing!

A thought came unbidden to James's mind: Elizabeth had spent the night in the smithy - at Will's mercy the whole time. James followed this twisted trail of thought through to its conclusion, and the anger roiling in his chest turned to the unfeeling ice of vengeance. Will had killed Elizabeth - the cry of anguish was probably just for show. Why else would he be celebrating if the woman he "loved" was dead? Elizabeth had died at the hand of the one she trusted most in the world, at the hand of the man she had hoped would become her husband. The irony of it all sickened James and turned his stomach.

He tightened his grip on the knife which he still held in his hand, grinding the wire-bound hilt deeper into his palm. The pain sharpened his senses and honed his fury - he had come to kill Will to gain Elizabeth's affections. But if she was dead by Will's hand, James would kill the blacksmith out of revenge for Elizabeth's departed soul.

James saw the smithy door in a haze of firey red anger. He opened the door and charged in shouting, _"FOR ELIZABETH!"_

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Governor Swann watched the last of the documents curl around the edges and blacken, turning into charcoal and smoke. In just a few moments, the documents linking Weatherby Swann to the Commodore would be gone, reduced to a pile of smoldering embers. If James went down for a bungled murder, then he sure as HELL wasn't taking Governor Swann down with him.

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A/N: Sorry haven't updated in a while, but y'know - school. A government funded facility of sophisticated torture. It unfortunately gives me loads of crappy HW in french to do, andI suppose it doesn't help my math teacher refuses to accept logic reasoning. sigh

More Jack coming up in the next chappie, for all you Johnny fans out there...


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer: **Don't own POTC...

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Jack screwed his eyes up against the sun's glare and could just make out the faintest grey smudge on the horizon. He glanced up at the firey orb in the sky and, as he had expected, it was beginning its descent towards the ocean. It was around four in the afternoon. They were a bit furthur from land than Jack had expected, but that was probably due to the exhaustion and several frostbitten feet of the following crew.

The hours wore on as they plodded steadily towards port. It was getting dark, and Jack was beginning to get worried. The crew couldn't bear another all-night forced march. And neither could he. They didn't have enough supplies to stop and make camp - they were eating more than normal just to keep warm. They could only forge onwards in hopes of reaching Port Royal before the cold began its plunging nighttime spiral.

Jack's mind began to drift away from his logistical worries and back in time, back to his Dona Esperanza. Anything to escape from this. Oh, God, it was cold, so cold...

Jack smiled as Dona Esperanza blearily blinked her eyes open. She looked around her, disoriented. As she should be. When she had fallen asleep, she was in a creaky cell in the brig, huddled in Jack's arms. Now, she was still with Jack, but not in his arms. After the incident with Alderman, Jack had figured waking up next to a man would have been a bit too much for her, so he'd reluctantly disentangled himself from her embrace and had taken her somewhere more comfortable. She had spent the night in Jack's cabin, on his meager pallet, with him standing guard outside the rest of the night lest Alderman would try something again.

She started when he leaned forwards towards her. She more than started, in fact. She recoiled from him so fast it was like watching greased lightening. She backed up against the wall, pulling the blankets up over her as if to conserve her modesty, though she was still fully dressed.

"Stay away!" she said, her voice tense. It was obvious that Jack had at last found a woman who was impervious to his charm. "Don't touch me!"

Jack leaned back into his chair, tipping it back on two legs in a relaxed fashion, and propped his feet up on the edge of his otherwise occupied bed. "Fine," he said carelessly, holding up his hands to show he wouldn't try anything funny. "I won't touch you, I swear. I'll just sit here, alright?"

Esperanza stared at him out of untrusting, fearful eyes, like a vixen that's been cornered by the hounds. "You're a _pirata_. How can I trust anything you say?"

Jack shrugged. "I got Alderman off you, didn't I?"

"How do I know you're not just saving me for yourself?"

Jack shook his head disbelievingly. "Senorita - I'm surprised at you! I would have thought a high lady of culture such as yourself could recognize a gentleman when she saw one."

Esperanza's face smoothed over into an unreadable mask. The cold beauty was back - any emotion was gone from her feature. "I thought I could," she said in a flat tone. "But I was wrong."

Jack was instantly suspicious. She was hiding something. But she was getting touchy, so he supressed his curiousity and let his better judgement take over. "Very well," he sighed, standing up. Dona Esperanza flinched when he did so. "I'll just leave you in peace. Maybe you'll be able to realize my intentions are not what you think them to be."

With that, he turned and silently left the room, locking the door behind him.

Jack was suddenly aware of a squeltching underfoot and was snapped back from the past. Water was leaking up onto the surface of the ice, softening it. Jack hurriedly backpedalled until he was on solid ice and looked behind him to make sure all of the crew were accounted for. He was surprised to see how far ahead of them he was. The sun was sinking behind the horizon off to Jack's right, and as he turned to face it, he caught a glimpse of what lay before him.

True, there was Port Royal, seeming little more than a cluster of snow-covered shacks on the edge of the harbor. Smoke was pouring liberally out of the distant smokestacks, creating a foggy haze that lingered above the town like a cloud on a still day. But that wasn't what Jack was looking at. He was looking at the ice between him and Port Royal.

Cutting through the ice was a broad trail of ocean, allowing the supressed waters to leak out like blood from a wound. Jack could see it was as wide as a medium sized vessel, but there was no conceivable way for a normal ship to break through the thick ice. Unless...

"Alderman," Jack breathed, his breath a faint white mist in the frigid air. He didn't care about his soggy feet, his numb hands and ears or his raw wind-chapped face - he knew he had arrived too late. Deadeye had gotten to Elizabeth before he had. Jack inwardly winced at the agony Will must be going through. Will must think Elizabeth was dead...

"How do we cross _THAT_?" muttered Jack and looked towards the ship's trail throught the ice, not realizing that Anamaria had come up behind him.

"We'll go 'round is all," stated Anamaria sensibly, steadying Jack with one hand as he predictably whipped around to see who was behind him, not such a good idea on the water-slick ice.

When Jack stared at her blankly, she sighed and pointed in the direction of Port Royal. "Look. Y'see the 'ole in th'ice? There's only one o' those line thingies, an' it's only on one side. We'll jus' walk in on this side o'the trail, an' Bob's yer uncle! We're in port! Now, can we _please _hurry up? There's a pint or two with me name on it sittin' in that pub, and I ain't waitin' any longer."

Jack grinned at the simplicity of Anamaria's logic. "Righto! Good thinkin' lass! If we pick up our sorry ol' boots we'll be knockin' back rum 'fore y'can say _Black Pearl_!"

"Black Pearl," said Anamaria promptly, her eyes shining with mischief.

"I didn't mean it li'erally, ye fool! Now 'urry up th'others, ye smart alec!"

Anamaria walked off chuckling, leaving Jack to strike out towards Port Royal shaking his head and muttering about the insanity of women.

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A/N: hey, I just noticed all the stars I put in to make the flashbacks more obvious were disappearing when I uploaded the document. Sorry 'bout that. Didn't mean to confuse you unnecessarily - this is already confusing enough as it is! (I should know - it's my head this story is coming out of. Trust me, you don't want to visit in there. VERY RANDOM AND POINTLESS.)

Darn school, taking up all my evenings with homework...sigh. Well, hang in there - I'm not giving up on this, despite 2 IGCSEs I have to study for... (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!)

Oh, yeah, just for future reference to anyone else who makes a character walk from Tortuga to Port Royal, it's about a thousand miles, give or take a hundred. It would take about three months to walk that far. But Jack and crew walk it in about 3 days. Hee hee... sheepish look Oops...

What the hey. For the purposes of the story, it's fine. Besides, what would Will do for 3 months? Sit around watching Elizabeth lie there like a log? Much more convenient this way. And besides the logistics of that, who wants to read about a group of guys and a woman walking across flat, white frozen ice for 3 months? Nobody. It's too boring!

Wow, this was a long author's note. Will resolve HW crisis so I can write more. Don't like leaving you guys in the lurch.

(Might write a quick oneshot for a break...I just have to remember to bring the essay home from my desk. It involves Jack pondering stuff and love and more stuff. It actually inspired this story, so I think it'd be interesting to see where this fic sprang from...)


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC, but anyone u don't recognize from da film is mine. MINE! MINEMINEMINE! MUA AAA AAA!

A/N: sorry, got a little carried away there. and i'm sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo sorry that it took so long to post this! I had a brain fart and i just couldn't think anymore. (Damn writer's block!) But i'm better now. here's 3 chappies fer u lot to chew over. ENJOY!

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Will had just dropped to his knees, overwhelmed that Elizabeth was still alive, when the door to the smithy burst open. A blurred figure charged in, screaming something about Elizabeth.

Will's mind jumped to the instant conclusion that this was one of the things Elizabeth had feared was "coming to get her". She wasn't awake, and was showing no signs of doing so. They had done something to her, and now were coming back to finish the job.

Will reacted as fast as he could given the circomstances, and whipped a sword out from under his bed, where it had been loosely tied to the underside. But even still, he barely managed to deflect the charge. He shoved his assailant backwards at the same time he rose to his feet. The smithy's invader stumbled backwards and fell. With a jolt, Will realized his opponent was none other than Commodore Norrington. And Norrington was only attacking him with a knife, despite the fact he had a sword dangling off his belt.

Norrington flung himself back at Will with an inhuman cry of rage. Now that Will knew who he was fighting, all thoughts of killing flew out of his mind. This was one man he could not kill. For the sake of the town, for Elizabeth's sanity - and for his own sort of revenge. What better way to get back at the Commodore for all the mistreatment (it wasn't anything huge, just minor sabotage of Will's metalworks) he had received - unknown to anyone but him and the Commodore - than to marry the one woman Norrington really cared about?

Why was the Norrington attacking him? It made no sense. James was not the type of person you'd seen randomly assaulting passers-by. So why had he come bursting into the smithy screaming something about Elizabeth and brandishing a knife?

Will parried Norrington's wild knife slashes almost carelessly. Norrington wasn't at his best - he was blind with fury. But Will was beginning to tire - the lump on the back of his skull was starting to throb. He wished he knew WHY Norrington was acting like this.

The fight wore on. Will fell into a state of numbness. He didn't really care anymore. His mind was already slipping back to the woman lying still on the bad. Why didn't she wake? He just wished that Norrington would give up so that he could go back to Elizabeth.

Norrington fought with the inhuman anger of a man posessed. He was wounded in a dozen places - yet he didn't feel a thing. Will regretted it, but hey - you can't let a crazy commodore stab you to death while your true love is lying unconcious on your bed! And for God's sake, Will couldn't exactly kill the guy; he was the bloody commodore of bloody Port Royal! Will would hang for sure if he did that.

Suddenly the door burst and in came a mini-regiment of marines! Will looked up in surprise at their arrival, losing his concentration. As a result Norrington's knife landed firmly in his arm.

Will yelled in pain and shock, and the marines charged forward. They hauled the incensed commodore off Will and beat him gently to unconsciousness.

When Norrington was lying safely tied up on the floor with a soggy gag in his mouth, one of the soldiers turned to Will. "Y'alright, sir?" he asked amiably. "That looks nasty."

Will looked down at his bicep to see his sleeve slashed and covered in blood. He didn't even feel the pain. "No thanks," he said, "I'll be okay."

The marine nodded and went back to the others trying to drag the commodore out of the shop. "It's lucky we got here in time, Mr. Turner - we were tipped off just in time. So here we are, with our orders."

"What orders?"

"Orders for the arrest of Commodore Norrington."

Will was incredulous. "Arrest! Orders from who!"

"Governor Swann."

Will's jaw dropped. He glanced at Elizabeth lying still under the sheets. The soldiers hadn't noticed her, and Will didn't see any harm in letting that slip. Her father was behind this! He didn't know what to make of it! Governor Swann had always been a firm Norrington supporter in the Will vs Norrington battle for Elizabeth's hand. Why the sudden change of heart? Will could only figure that Elizabeth had said something to him before coming down - something in that argument she'd mentioned. Maybe while she'd stayed warm and safe in the smithy, he'd pondered her words and had FINALLY decided to side with Will. And since Elizabeth wasn't exactly awake for further, detailed questioning on the subject, Will would just have to assume that was what had happened.

The marine Will was speaking to twisted around to look at his comrades' progress while Will was lost in his thoughts. They'd managed to get the Commodore into a cart, covering his face with a cloth so that he wouldn't be recognized by the townsfolk. They'd surely start asking awkward questions that wouldn't look good for the military. Couldn't have that. There could be an uprising or an outbreak of crime or an invasion of pirates if the town's gossips got ahold of this most recent scandal.

The marine turned back to face Will. "You'll be alright, sir?"

_A marine's being polite to me_, thought Will dryly. _Ironic, considering his commander's hostility towards my liasons with Elizabeth. _"Yeah," sighed Will. "No harm done. Well, no great harm at least. This," he indicated the bloody gash on his arm, "isn't anything I can't deal with."

The marine nodded absent-mindedly, staring around the shop. "Say, if you don't mind me asking..."

_Uh oh_, thought Will, _now I'm in for it. He's going to want to know where Elizabeth is. THEN what will they think?_

"...how many of these swords did you make? Since Mr. Brown's not here, I'm assuming he's out delivering something or whatnot. I hope you don't mind me asking."

Will felt a huge sense of relief swell up within him. Thank God. Elizabeth wouldn't be discovered in her current state. "All of them," he replied unthinkingly, forgetting he was supposed to only be the blacksmith's apprentice.

"All of them?" asked the marine, curious. "Are you sure none of them are Mr. Brown's handiwork? Begging your pardon if it seems forward, but isn't this all a bit beyond an apprentice's skill? Surely he's helped you with some of it?"

Will hesitated for a split second. Should he blow Mr. Brown's shaky cover? Yes, he decided; he'd been wearing the apprentice's guise for far too long. "Actually," said Will, still slightly uncertain if he should really be telling the soldier this, "Mr Brown has never done a day's work since he took me on as an apprentice. He takes what money I earn and spends it on liquor. If you go in the back, he'll probably still be passed out from last night's frolicking."

The marine looked shocked. Will noticed he was fingering the hilt of his sword. With a start, Will realized it was one of his own. "So..._you've_ been running the shop all this time? Making the swords and such?"

"Yes."

The marine nodded slowly. "I'll speak to one of my superiors. There must be _something _we can do for you, Mr. Turner, after all this."

Will smiled wryly. "Thanks, but I don't think it'll do much good."

The marine smiled, a cheeky glint in his eye, "On the contrary, Mr. Turner. If you still have intentions to marry Miss Swann, I'm sure you'll want all the money you can get."

Will, who had been scuffing the dirt floor with his worn shoe, looked up sharply. The marine chuckled at Will's expression. "Don't think I don't know about it. We've all heard you and Miss Swann. But don't worry!" The marine winked. "I'm on your side. I'll see what I can do for you. I'm a married man myself and I know how hard it can be to start a household."

Will was smiling too now. "Thank you, Mr...?"

"Corporal George Sanders at your service, sir."

"Ah, yes. Thank you, _Corporal_ Sanders."

Corporal Sanders nodded. He glanced behind him to see the other marines trundling off down the street with the Commodore in his wheelbarrow. "Oops. I'm late. See you around, Mr. Turner." With that, he dashed out the door and down the road, jangling undignifiedly as he went.

Will's smile at the quirky young corporal slowly disappeared as he shut the door behind him. He looked across the room to Elizabeth. The snow still hadn't melted, and the sky was heavy with the promise of more. And Elizabeth still hadn't woken up. What was he going to do?

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A/N: need...gasp!...encouragement! ...read...choke! ...and ...wheeze!...REVIEW! (plz!)

drumroll! yay! another chappie read by u peepls! onto the next ! 2 more to go before u run out of new chappies! (sry so few, but i get a limited time on the computer cuz of blasted HW.)


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC...

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Jack stumbled as his foot encountered the first solid land it had touched in about three days. Partially because he hadn't been on unslippery ground in roughly seventy two hours, and partially because he was just so damn tired - and he still couldn't settle down for a rest. He had to find Will and explain to him why Elizabeth was seemingly dead.

Jack walked up the slight incline a ways before turning back to look at the crew. He did a quick head count, confirming that everyone was still with him. They ground to a halt and stared up at him blearily, awaiting the word that would allow them to head out to the taverns and warmth. Jack wearily waved his hand in the direction of the town and they eagerly trudged off, a spring back in their step with the promise of food and drink nearby. Jack waited until they had disappeared into the snow-covered alleys of Port Royal before heading down a narrow icy road that he knew for a fact led to the back door of the smithy.

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A/N: srry dis 1 is so short, but don't worry, i think the last 1 is the longest of the 3 newbies. onto the next! (again, sorry updating took so long. will explain the end of next chappie.)


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC...

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Will sat by the bedside, holding Elizabeth's hand. There was little, if anything, else he could do. He had tried every conceivable means to try and wake her - cold water, hot water, yelling, shaking her gently and then not so gently - none of it did any good. And now, after a day of futile, wasted efforts, he was at a loss for what to do. He just wished Jack would hurry up and get here. That is, if he was coming at all. For all he knew, Jack could be the _cause_ of the snow, not the solution to getting rid of it.

Night was falling, and Will was contemplating on whether or not he should take Elizabeth back to her house. If he did, she would be in the best of care and in a safe - saf_er_ - environment. But if he did, what would her father think? If indeed Governor Swann had sided with him, this incident might bring back around to Norrington's side. What the hey - might as well go the whole mile: they might even have him hanged because of this. And if Elizabeth did eventually wake up, where would she be then? No doubt all set up to marry the Commodore while his body still swung from the gallows. No. She was staying here. It was better not to risk it.

Suddenly there was a loud crashing noise from the back of the forge and the shouting of several very rude profanities that won't be published for the sake of all the seven year olds that accidentally find themselves reading this. Will almost groaned aloud. It was probably Brown, waking up from his alcohol induced stupor. With a MAJOR hangover.

Will reluctantly rose to go help the "master blacksmith". He really didn't need this. Not now.

Will trudged over towards the back of the shop, almost dragging his feet. " 'ey now, whelp, why the long face?"

Will's head snapped up. "Jack!" he exclaimed. "How - what - why -!"

Jack held up his hands and waved them about wildly. "StopstopstopstopstopstopSTOP! One thing at a time 'ere!" Will shut up and Jack continued. "Tha's be'er. Go get th'fire goin' or somethin', Ol' Jack's freezin' his arse off."

Will just stared at him in incredulous joy. How lucky was he? The answer to all his problems had arrived on his doorstep! Now Elizabeth would be fine!

"Oy, eunuch, I ain't got all day. 'urry up 'fore I become th'firs' human icicle!"

Will snapped out of it. He headed towards the dying forge and began pumping the bellows. "I - resent - that," he said, forcing out each of the words on the downstroke of the bellows. "I'm - NOT - A - EUNUCH!"

Jack shrugged and plopped down on the chair which Elizabeth had occupied upon arriving in the smithy the night before. As the coals heated up again, Jack tugged of his knee-high leather boots and emptied about an inch of water out of them. He dropped them as close to the fire as he could get - which was pretty close - and they almost immediately started hissing. He then stretched out with a sigh, slouching low in the chair and started brushing ice crystals out of his dreads.

Will watched him mutely. Jack seemed unconcerned by Will's scrutiny and started picking his teeth, flicking his finds into the fire. Will watched for about another minute out of morbid fascination before saying quietly, "I'm assuming that because you're here you know what's going on."

Jack shrugged nonchalantly. "Yeah; so what if I do? What's it ter ye?"

Will had been keeping his temper in close check, but Jack's irresponsible manner and his worry for Elizabeth got the better of him. "If you don't mind, _Jack_, I would like to know the reason why _ELIZABETH IS LYING THERE LIKE A CORPSE!"_

Jack jumped and fell of his chair. "Jeez, Will, no need t'get yer knickers in a twist! She ain't dead, y'know. She's just...sleeping, like."

"I _know_ she's not dead! But _WHY_ isn't she waking up?"

"Yeah, well...y'know...gettin' yer soul stolen would make anybody snooze a lil'..."

"_WHAT!_" cried Will. "SOUL STOLEN? So she's DEAD?"

"Nonononononononono!" exclaimed Jack, waving his hands about wildly. "She ain't dead! Far from it! 's possible t'separate th'soul from th'body. Just takes one hell of a magician to do it. Or a ghost. Angry soul. Spirit. Whatever. Th'point is, is tha' 'liz'beth's soul's been stolen by this crazy japanese lady from five 'undred years ago who wants revenge on all pirates."

"I'm not a pirate, Jack! I'm a blacksmith!"

Jack waggled a chiding finger at Will. "Now, whelp, y'know that ain't true, Th'blood of Bootstrap Bill flows in yer veins - yer a pirate, boy! Even yer bonny lass can see it, lest me spies tell me wrong. An' as a result, our ladies hafta pay th'prices fer our crimes."

Will slowly sat down on the chair as Jack looked up from the floor indignantly. "Oy, whelp, ye took me bumrest!"

Will turned his head to face Jack, an almost hesitant grin on his face. "Sorry Jack, but your 'bumrest' is a chair that _I_ made myself, and therefore have the right to sit on whenever I want to." Will paused, looking back towards the young woman on the bed. Then in a quieter, sadder tone, he said, "What are we going to do Jack? Is there anyway to save her?"

Jack snorted rudely. " 'Course there is, m'boy! We've just gotta kill th'guy in alliegance wiv th'pissed off spirit! Which would be m'ex-bosun, Ben Alderman. Otherwise known as Deadeye Alderman. I gouged 'is eye out m'self. ... 'm very proud o' that..."

Will smacked his forehead in dispair. "I don't _CARE_, Jack1 If we can save Elizabeth, then let's go! Now!" He started frantically gathering every object that could be necessary and trying to stuff them into a sack.

Jack hauled himself off the floor and cuffed Will soundly on the back of his head. Will dropped his half-full sack and started rubbing the back of his skull. "What was that for?" he complained.

Jack plopped back down on the fireside chair. "Fer one thing, gettin' yerself inter a tizzy ain't gonna help Liz's situation any. Second, in case ye haven't noticed, ye blind dingbat, it's dark. An' it's snowin'. I ain't budgin' 'til I get a hot meal, 'bout a bucket o' beer, an' a good night's sleep. An' neither is me crew. We've walked fer bloody ages t'get 'ere, and we ain't about to run outta 'ere as soon as we got 'ere. So jes' siddown an cool yer boots a lil'. 'liz'beth'll be fine 'til mornin'. Now piss off, whelp; ol' Jack gonna try t'get a bit o'shut-eye." With that, he propped his feet up on the edge of the hearth, pulled his tricorn hat low over his eyes and promptly began to feign snoring.

Will sighed and stopped rubbing the welt Jack's ring had raised when Jack had walloped him. With a last resentful glance, Will went back to his bed. He perched himself on the edge and stared off at Jack, snoring for real this time. (Incredible how fast that man could fall asleep, eh?) Jack was right. There was nothing he could do until morning. Will brushed the dust off the soles of his feet - he hadn't even bothered to put his shoes on - and slipped under the sheets, still fully clothed. It was getting chillier. He then hesitantly snuggled up to Elizabeth and, with his arm protectively around her waist, drifted off to a fitful, tormented sleep.

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A/N: tada! the end! (of the new chappies.)

now: explanations. my skool, it's almost half term break, so the blasted teachers are giving us loadsa boring revision and "practice exercises" snort yeah right! more like sophisicated torture in the form of algebratic equations. so, cuz of this load of HW, i wasnt able 2 write & update as often as i did when i started, cuz i think i started writing this during a skool holiday. (if i remember correctly...) and now, since this weekend starts our 2 week half term break, i can write loads:) yay!

dont worry: i promise not to ever do this again. (if i can help it) if i do it again, u have my permission 2 hire snipers 2 cum and hunt me down. that is, if u can find out where i live! mua aaa aaa! BANGBANGBANGBANG! dammit...

and if yer in the USA, look fer my updates in the morning. it's the evening 4 me, cuz of time difference. (does that give u a clue where i live)


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer: **dont own POTC...

A/N: sorry this took so long. 3 books 2 read 4 da hols...and i have writer's block. chew over these for a while..

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Elizabeth was lost in a fog. She didn't understand where she was. The last thing she remembered was a chilling laugh and the solid thump of a boot hitting stone. She had been in the smithy. So where was she now? Why was it misty? Where was Will?

A sudden sense of panic hit her. "_WILL!_" she screamed into the silence. There was no reply. "_WILL!_"

Still only cold, deadly quiet was the answer to her cry.

Elizabeth began running frantically. The ground was smooth, unnaturally so. Her footsteps were muffled; all sound, even her desperate shouts, swallowed by the fog. Even the ragged rhythm of her breathing and the thunder of her heart pounding in her ears seemed muted. It was if she was wrapped in thick layers of silk - seeming to get enough air yet being slowly suffocated at the same time.

Suddenly she heard a dull thump off to her right. She spun towards the noise, now trying her best to be as silent as possible. There was someone else here. Or some_thing_.

Elizabeth, against her better judgement, began to slowly move towards the sound. No matter how she got here, and even if she was in no danger whatsoever, she would still feel better if there _was_ someone else here. And if it was Will, she'd be the happiest person alive. Even if she found out that they were on a cannibal-infested island and were moments away from being caught and roasted alive.

"Hello?" she called uncertainly. "Is anyone there?"

After a moment's silence, there a quiet voice floated out of the fog. "Who speaks?"

"Who wants to know?" Elizabeth shot back. This could be a trick question. And the voice was definitely not Will, much to her disappointment.

The voice laughed. "A fellow prisoner. Welcome. How long have you been here?"

"How should I know?" Elizabeth was disconcerted. If she was a prisoner, this was a pretty funny jail. And where were her captors?

"Ah, well," the voice sighed. It was getting closer. "Not everyone remembers. I have no idea how long I've been in here. It's just fog and dust, echoes and loneliness. All blurring into one."

A woman clad in a violet and black dress emerged from the mist slightly off to Elizabeth's left. "You're the first person I've met in here. There are others, but they do not speak english. Mostly chinese or japanese or something of the sort." Elizabeth noticed, now that the fog was not swallowing the finer nuances of her voice, she spoke with an accent. Castillan, it seemed.

Elizabeth studied her newfound companion. She was tall with long black hair tumbling down her back in a waterfall of night. Her skin was once the color of caramel, but now it was the paler color of cafe au lait, no doubt because of her time spent imprisoned. Her eyes were a piercing blue, shining brightly out of the gloom surrounding them. They had once danced with a quiet, mischievious spark, but that glimmer had dimmed and faded. Her eyes were weary and dull, longing for something she could not have. She didn't seem dangerous, just worn, and Elizabeth decided to trust her, or else be caught in an unknown trap in this twilight world.

"My name's Elizabeth Swann. Where are we? And what's your name?" Elizabeth chose to cut the pleasantries short and get straight to business.

The woman smiled. "Where we are? That's a long story, one we might not have time for. And as for your other question, well... My name is Dona Esperanza."


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC...

A/N: sorry again, but this 1's kinda short. don't worry, next chappie is HUGE!

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"Jack! Wake up!"

With a yell of surprise, Jack tumbled out of his chair, nearly landing in the smoldering embers of last night's fire. He glared up at Will, standing above him with a overstuffed rucksack in each hand. "Geez, whelp; there's no need t'scare a man like tha'! I could've had a heart attack or summat!"

Will chucked the sack at Jack's feet. "Whatever, Jack; now let's get moving. If we're going to save Elizabeth, then there's no time to waste. Grab the bag and get your crew together and let's get the hell outta here!"

With that, Will flung his sachel over his shoulder and headed at a swift pace out of the smithy, slamming the door behind him. For a second, Jack sat on the floor, shell-shocked. Then with a muttered profanity, he snatched up the rough burlap bag and ran after Will, arms flailing in his typical Jack manner.

Jack charged out of the blacksmith's shop letting the door slam behind him in a most undignified manner. Not that Jack had much dignity in the first place.

Wil was leaning nonchalantly against the side of the exterior dorframe, quietly observing Jack making a fool of himself.

Jack whirled around several times before noticing Will's scrutiniy. "Make me make a fool of meself, will ye Will?" Jack muttered darkly. " 'twill be consequences..."

Will sighed exasperatedly. "What?" asked Jack. That boy sure could be infuriating sometimes. As Will moved to lock the door behind Jack so his livelihood would be safe in their absence, Jack barred his way.

"Aren't you fergettin' something, Will?" said Jack, waggling an eyebrow suggestively.

"No," replied Will shortly. "Now lets's get a move on before we lose our chances of catching the guy who did this to Elizabeth."

Jack lost his patience and hauled off and whacked Will on the back of his head. "Tha's me point, boy! We can't very well get 'liz's soul back wifout th'lady herself!"

Will smacked himself in the forehead. "Good grief! I'm such a - !"

He reopened the door, dashed inside, and reemerged with the said above cradled in his arms. Jack nodded with satisfaction. "Right, I think we've got ev'rythin'..." He glanced around. "Yep. Want me t'close up, fer ye Will, seein' as yer otherwise occupied?"

Will indicated the set of keys he had dropped when he had reentered the smithy to get Elizabeth. "Yeah, thanks."

Jack locked the door and they set off stealthily down the road. With Elizabeth in her current state, it would straight to the gallows for both of them. And with Jack being the only one in the vinicty who knew _exactly_ what was going on, they DEFINITELY couldn't have that. (That, and the small fact neither of them wanted to die just yet.)

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A/N: PLEASE REVIEW! I'M DYING HERE! I NEED ENCOURAGEMENT, BEFORE I AM KILLED BY CHARLES DICKENS GREAT EXPECTATIONS!1


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC...

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"Sorry, who?" asked Elizabeth.

"Dona Esperanza. But ignore the title. Call me Esperanza."

"Oh." Elizabeth's sense of propriety kicked in. "Nice to meet you."

Esperanza snorted in a most unladylike fashion. "Drop the pleasantries. I'm sure you don't really care about that sort of thing anyway."

Elizabeth smiled. "Yep. Now, where are we? What's going on? And why - "

'Slow down, slow down!" chuckled Esperanza. "It's a long story and I only hope we have time for it. Don't," she held up a hand as Elizabeth started to ask another question. "It'll all become clear when you hear this. Make yourself comfortable. We're going to be here awhile."

Elizabeth plopped onto the ground and sat cross-legged, looking up at Esperanza with an expectant expression reminiscent of the story-hungry child she once was. Esperanza leaned back against a large granite boulder which Elizabeth hadn't noticed before - it was mostly hidden by the mist - and began.

"This all started long ago, when a young pirate captain and his men boarded our vessel. I wouldn't yield my valuables to him, as the other passengers had done. My family had lost everything in a foolish bet on the outcome of a horse race, and I was travelling to the Americas in hopes of better fortune. I was not about to give everything I had to a seaworn rogue! And so, he kept me on his ship while he let the others go. I did not trust him, what with his outlaw way of life and wanton habits. But that all changed when his first mate tried to have his way with me."

Elizabeth gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth. "You poor dear! You must have been - "

"I don't want your pity," interrupted Esperanza in a harsh tone. "It came to nought, anyway. My mysterious captor hauled him off me. Then for the next several weeks, he kept me in his own cabin, caring for me, trying to win my trust. But I still wouldn't allow myself to trust him..."

"Get away from me."

She stared distrustfully at the man approaching her bed. Why wouldn't he just leave her alone? Couldn't he see that she wasn't interested in him?

His hopeful face fell, though he tried to hide it. "Right, miss. I'll just be goin' then." He turned and began to slowly trudge out of her room for the umpteenth time that week.

Esperanza stared at his retreating back with a slight twinge of guilt. He looked so dejected...would it really do any harm if she let him stay so he could say what he obviously wanted to say? He reached for the doorhandle to leave, but she quickly made up her mind. "Wait," she called. He turned around, any traces of his most recent disappointment erased and replaced with shining hope. "You can stay," she said, and he started to hurry to her side, but she continued. "But only if you keep your distance."

"That's enough for me!" he said cheerfully, and plopped down on a chair as close to the bed as he thought was appropriate. Esperanza turned away and stared out the window. They sat like that in silence for what seemed to be an indeterminable length of time. And with each passing minute, she felt the young pirate's eyes on her more and more acutely. At last, she couldn't take it anymore.

"Stop staring at me; it's incredibly rude!" she snapped. His stare was making her seriously uncomfortable, and she didn't know why. She was used to men staring at her when she passed them in the streets, when she attended balls and parties. Normally, she didn't even notice. So why was he different?

"Sorry," he said softly. His earlier jovial tone was replaced with something else, something gentler. It was making her nervous and fidgety. "But I can't help it."

"What do you mean, 'you can't help it'!" she forced the words out in the most scathing voice she could manage under the circumstances. "Of course you can. So stop it."

"I can't help it," he repeated, locking eyes with her, and moving to sit on the side of the bed. She edged away from him, but did not break eye contact. "I can't help it; you're - " He faltered and hesitated, seemingly unsure on whether or not he should be saying what he was saying. "You're just so beautiful..." He reached a hand out towards her face, as if he wished to gently run his fingers down her smooth cheek. She slapped his hand away.

"Stop it," she said, but with less conviction in her words this time. She was seriously taken off guard. Whatever she had expected him to say, this certainly hadn't been it. "I told you to leave me alone. And I meant it. I'm not the person you want to be falling in love with."

He smiled, that dashing, roguishly crooked grin of his. "Too late, love. You had me from the moment you refused to hand over your jewellry. You've got spirit. I admire that. You're not afraid of me."

"I've told you to keep your distance. Doesn't that tell you something?" Her voice was trembling slightly. Why did the world have to change so suddenly all the time? She was prepared for this.

He chuckled at her words. "You tell me to keep my distance not because you fear me, but because you are afraid to get close to anyone. You were hurt, weren't you?" He laid a sea-roughened hand gently on her cheek. "I can see it in your eyes."

She could feel the tears welling up, the constricting of her throat. Why, oh _why_ hadn't he listened? Why couldn't he just stay away from her? Why did he have to understand her every action and every hurt and try to heal it? _Why?_

"Yes," she said softly. "But I don't want to talk about it." She looked away as the first tear burned its way down her face. And then another.

"Okay love," he whispered, wipeing the tears away with his thumb. The tenderness in the way he said 'love' was enough to break any resolve she had left. As more tears slid slowly down her cheeks, he once again wiped them away. "You don't have to talk about it." And then he kissed her.

She felt the gentle brush of his moustache and beard as he softly kissed her cheek. As more tears ran down her face, he kissed, lightly, softly, across her cheekbone down to the corner of her mouth. She hadn't felt so loved since before her engagement. After all the recent pain and hardships she had suffered, she hadn't believed she would ever find something like this again. But she was wrong - the world has a funny way of giving you what you want in the most unexpected ways.

He rested his forehead against her and cupped her face in his hands. He kissed her forehead and then brushed the errant strands of hair away from her face. She couldn't take it any more. She hesitantly wrapped her arms around him, and he took it as an invitation to kiss her on the lips. After their lips parted, they merely sat on the bed, arms around each other. He cradled her in his embrace, holding her in a way that made her feel safe and loved and strong all at the same time. As she sat there, feeling that all was going right - at long last - it was then that she realized she felt something more than comtempt or anger towards her captor. It wasn't love, but it was close. She sighed and closed her eyes, content that they stay like this forever.

Elizabeth whispered sadly, her mind drifting to thoughts of Will, "Sounds like heaven."

Esperanza smiled wryly. "Yes, well - it was shortly after that that everything went wrong. His first mate became insanely jealous. He wanted me for himself. But Jack wouldn't let him."

"Hold on a minute!" cried Elizabeth. "Jack? As in Jack _Sparrow?_"

Esperanza smiled, in her eyes a faraway look, as if she were remembering happier times. "Yes. Jack Sparrow. My beloved bird." Her eyes darkened. "My little sparrow that flew away and never came back. He betrayed me."

Elizabeth sensed that Esperanza was about to go off-subject, but she wanted to know the complete story first. "So what happened next?"

Esperanza seemed to shake herself. "What happened next? Benjamin went mad. He challenged Jack to a duel and lost. That very night he tried to take me from Jack's cabin."

"Did he succeed?"

"No." A cloud came over her features as she once again remembered the past. "He did not."

The ship rolled sickeningly as she crested the peaks of the stormy sea. It was not a full-blown gale, but it was getting close. The crew was bunkered down in the belowdecks, and only the barest bit of canvas was being used to keep them going with the wind. Many of them were feeling the weather. But inside the captain's quarters, up on deck, all was calm.

Jack had extinguished the candles lest one of them fall and cause a fire. The windows were tightly closed and the gap under the door was blocked with cloths so the rain would not penetrate the chamber. In the bed under a sheet and a threadbare blanket, Jack and Esperanza were snuggled close together and sound asleep, oblivious to the storm raging outside.

Several hours later, the storm had become an angry gale, roaring through the rigging and pelting the _Pearl_ with heavy rains. The sea was not a happy mistress this night, and tossed the little ship unmercifully about on her waves, sending the _Pearl_ where the sea's whims would take her. But in the cabin, all was quiet, and the lovers slept on, entwined in each other's arms.

Suddenly, there was a particularly brilliant flash of lightening followed by a tremendous clap of thunder. Esperanza awoke with a start. For a moment, she was disoriented, but then the cabin was relit by another lightening bolt, and she got her bearings. She nestled deeper into Jack's arms, but no matter how hard she tried to shake it, she could not help but feel that something was wrong.

The cabin door creaked open during a lull in the storm and Esperanza stiffened. The dreadful duel in which both Jack and Benjamin had participated had just been that afternoon, and the memories of it were still fresh in her mind. Benjamin, upon losing, had screamed, _"It's not over Sparrow! She'll be mine! You see!" _He was out for vengeance, and despite Esperanza's warnings, Jack had not put Benjamin off the ship. And now, as the door opened, Esperanza felt the icy hand of fear grip her heart. Had Ben come for revenge?

She poked Jack in the ribs. He awoke with a grunt. "Wha - ?" he asked blearily, before she could shush him. Then Benjamin struck. With an inhuman screech of rage, he hurled himself towards the couple. Jack reacted with lightening speed and leapt out of bed to meet his attacker, cutlass in hand. What he hadn't counted on was Benjamin's two pistols.

Esperanza screamed as twin muzzle flares blinded her momentarily. When her vision cleared, Jack was standing with his back to her, clearly looking down at his chest. He staggered around to face her, but it was too dark to see him clearly. A lightening flash lit the room, revealing the two round, gunpowder-blackened wounds on the left side of his chest. Blood was already gushing out of them to stain his shirt a livid red. She was too horrified to speak.

Jack tried to smile for her. "Sorry love," he said. Then, cutlass still in hand, he fell out of her line of sight.

Esperanza's cutting sadness was instantly transformed to sheer terror as Benjamin lowered his pistols, laughing maniacally. "I bested ye in th'end, didn't I, Jack Sparrow?" Still laughing, he kicked Jack's body and turned to Esperanza. "Now I've got ye all t'meself...at last!"

Esperanza suddenly realized what an awful situation she was in. Jack was the only thing standing between her and Ben, and now that he was gone...Esperanza shrank back against the wall. Ben lunged onto her with a suddenness that was almost unbelievable. She fought desperately to keep him off her, but he was too strong. He disregarded the buttons on her thin shift, grasping the material and brutally ripping it. The flimsy garment tore, sending buttons pinging everywhere. She tried to cover herself, but he forced her hands away. It was only now she started to scream.

He seemed to be everywhere at once. She struggled, but she dimly registered that she was fighting a losing battle. He would win. But she kept screaming, and she kept fighting.

Suddenly, Ben reared back and struck her across the face. "Shut up, whore!" This only made her scream louder. So he hit her harder.

"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Each phrase was punctuated with a brutal blow to her face. Her nose was bleeding and it felt as though several teeth were loose. "SHUT - !"

Ben stopped abruptly as a wiry figure hurled itself at him, flinging him backwards off the bed and off Esperanza. She was sobbing and gasping for breath as she groped for the sheet to cover herself. She backed into the corner and watched a battle of titans unfold.

The two shadowy figures grappled with one another. They fought with an intensity that would probably never again be matched in hand to hand combat. For a while, the bulkier figure - Benjamin - seemed to be winning, but then Esperanza's savior gained the upper hand. He whipped a knife out of somewhere and Esperanza saw the blade flash as the smaller shape struck. Ben reeled back, screaming in agony, collapsing to the floor, as the rest of the crew poured in.

In the faint glow of the lanterns they brought, it was plain that Ben had lost an eye to his assailant. Blood was oozing out from between his fingers as he lay moaning on the floor clutching the socket.

"You're lucky I didn't drive that in any deeper. You'd have been a dead man. Which you are now anyway, for what you've done." The man with his back to Esperanza was hunched, the knife still clutched in his hand. He dropped it and staggered towards her. He fell to his knees at the bedside, clinging to the bedframe for support.

"You alright love?" he asked in a faint voice.

"Jack!" Esperanza exclaimed, and scrambled towards him. She suddenly realized that the whole cabin covered in blood. His blood. It covered the floor, it had spattered on the walls as a result of the fight. He had gotten up, after being shot twice in the chest, to save her from Ben. She got onto her knees beside him and just as she did, he collapsed sideways, hitting the floor with a dull thud.

"Jack!" She scooted to him and cradled his head in her lap. "Jack, please don't die!"

He snorted weakly. "I can't leave you and the Pearl all alone can I? Did he hurt you?"

She shook her head. "No; no I'm fine. Oh, Jack - " Her throat caught. There was so much blood. "Jack, what about you?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "Don't worry 'bout me, love. As long as you're alright, I'm fine. Don't worry," he repeated. "Jack'll still be here t'take care of you. I promised, didn't I? Now hush. I'll be fine." His voice was getting fainter, and his eyes were becoming unfocused. "I love you.." He slipped into unconsciousness.

"How awful for you."

Esperanza shrugged. "I've blanked that from my mind. But let me tell you this one thing: Jack emerged from that encounter a changed man. He had to talk differently because the bullets had pierced his lung - it didn't heal properly and he probably still talks that way."

Elizabeth nodded. "Hell yes! Slurs, right?"

Esperanza smiled slightly. "Yes, that's it. And his liking for rum? Well, we gave rum to put him to sleep and to take away the pain. I guess he discovered the joy of other alcohols other than wine. Anyway, Jack ordered Alderman - yes, that's right," she said, in answer to Elizabeth's surprise. "His name was Ben Alderman. Now because of what Jack did to him, he's only known as Deadeye Alderman. Alderman set out for revenge again. This time, he's enlisting the help of an old Japanese spirit to do it. He wants to destroy all pirates so he can kill Jack."

"What do you mean, Jack betrayed you?" queried Elizabeth. The question had been nagging her since Esperanza had mentioned it.

Esperanza gazed off into the distance, her eyes shining with an unreadable emotion. "He left me in Tortuga. He said he was going after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta. But he never came back. Then Alderman found me. He ripped my soul from my body and imprisoned me in here. He will use me to kill Jack's heart, and then he will kill Jack himself."

"Wait - stole your soul? But that means - "

"Yes," interrupted Esperanza. "He has stolen your soul too. I just hope your pirate is more faithful than mine is..." she looked away again. "...or we're all going to die."

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A/N: READ AND REVIEW! READ AND REVIEW! AND NOT JUST MY ONE PAL WHO I HAPPEN TO KNOW IS READING THIS! (that means u, loosecrew! wink) PLEASE! I DONT WANT TO DIE SO YOUNG! CHARLES DICKENS IS KILLING ME! (honestly, if i write about this sort of stuff, what makes you think i'd read something like "Great Expectations?") PLEEEEEEEEEEEEEASE READ AND REVIEW!


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC

Will waited on the frozen beach while Jack was off gathering the crew. En route to his current spot, they had had the presence of mind to steal a small three-wheeled cart and the donkey the grocer used to make his rounds. They now had transport for Elizabeth and any extra supplies they would need. They just had to make sure the donkey made it to where they were going.

The island on which Jack thought Alderman had based his operation was believed to exist only in legend. But, despite Will's protests that their quest would come to naught, Jack assured him they would succeed. "Trust me," he had said, leaning drunkenly forward, exhaling the words in breath smelling of stale rum. "I've been there b'fore, an' I've even pilfered from it. The Scorpion Bowl exists." With that and a not-so-gentle friendly pat on the back, Jack tottered away, calling over his shoulder, "Wait 'ere, and try not t'do anything...stupid!"

After staring off in the direction Jack had taken for a minute or so, Will sighed and rubbed his hands together in an attempt to get some of the feeling back into his fingers. Shivering, he headed back to the cart and donkey half-hidden in the ice-encrusted foliage that lined the barren shore. He clambered into the back and, after wrapping himself in several blankets, settled down next to Elizabeth, who in turn was swaddled in thick wooly layers.

Will looked down at her and could just make out the almost imperceptible rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. It wasn't much, not enough to make a misty cloud in the cold air as his own breath did, but it was enough to confirm she lived. He brushed the hair away from her face, and pulled the blankets more securely around her. The rest of the cart was already half-filled with the donkey's food: hay and, in case the animal needed persuasion, liberal quantities of carrots. The hay was soft to sit on and warm in case one of the crewmen needed to rest during the journey. The remainder of the space would be filled, as soon as Jack got back, with food and water, and the one necessity Jack couldn't be without - rum.

Will sighed as his thoughts turned to their destination. The Scorpion Bowl... It was said to be a strange place, where the beaches were not beaches but high rocky cliffs. These cliffs sloped downwards as you got closer to the center of the island. The Scorpion Bowl, according to myth and folklore, was a leftover from the start of the world, filled with all sorts of primeval beasts and monsters. There was supposedly an entrance to hell itself hidden somewhere on the island, and because of this, any animals on the island were corrupted. They only let the truly evil pass in safety. Will, Jack and crew had no such guarantee. If they were to penetrate the heart of the island, where Jack said Alderman would be, it would be even more dangerous than their most recent escapade with Barbossa. They would be under constant threat of attack, and not all the island's traps and tricks could be seen with the naked eye...

Jack's slurring voice could be faintly heard in the distance, and Will shook himself. _Stop it_, he told himself firmly. _Thinking about it will only make it worse. _He climbed out of the cart and led the donkey out of the trees to meet Jack.

The supplies were loaded and they headed east. Towards the Scorpion Bowl.

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"Let me out of here!" shouted Norrington, rattling the bars of his cell. "I'm innocent!"

One of the guards snorted rudely and turned around from his vigil by the stairs. "Not likely, mate; from what I heard, you attacked the blacksmith with no reason or provocation! You're guilty as charged!"

"But I was set up! And - and - " James searched frantically for another reason to prove his innocence. "And the blacksmith's in league with Sparrow!"

The guard turned around again, uninterested. "Yeah, we've all heard that one before. They're considering demoting you back to a Private because of this, y'know." The guard seemed to find this immensely funny, probably because the Commodore hadn't exactly been very respectful towards him.

James felt as though he had been slapped in the face. The only person with the power to do that was the Governor...he HAD been set up! And to lose that rank, the one that had made him eligible for Elizabeth's hand...

Elizabeth! James suddenly remembered the reason for his crazy assault on the blacksmith. "Wait!" he cried. "The blacksmith's killed Miss Swann! That's why I attacked him!"

"HA!" shouted the guard, pointing an accusing finger at him. "So you admit to your crimes! You _ARE _guil - wait, what did you say?" The guard finally registered what James had said.

"The blacksmith's killed the Governor's daughter! Miss Swann is dead!"

The guard leapt as though he had been stung. "Impossible! Her ladyship, dead! Her father must be informed and - and you must be released!" He charged out of the room to no doubt inform one of his superiors of this new development, leaving James clutching the bars for support, wondering what his fate would be.

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A/N: read and review! matias, this means you! (hey that rhymed!) (and dont ask who matias is.)

as fer the rest o' y'all, please be like good little matias and leave a review!

(no offense matias. u know we luv ya.)

(but not like THAT. like a brother)


	22. Chapter 22

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC...

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Governor Swann sat comfortably in his fireside chair, sipping a glass of aged brandy. It warmed his old bones considerably, and eased the aches in his joints that had been building since the cold snap had begun. He was settling deeper into his armchair when the door burst open. He started, spilling his brandy. He turned to berate the intruder, angry at the abrupt intrusion.

"I say - " he began testily, but he was interrupted by Norrington's lackey, Gillette.

"Begging your pardon, sir," he gasped. "I ran all the way from the fort to give you the news, sir."

Governor Swann rose, still clutching his half-empty glass in one hand. "It had better be important, Gillette; I was just getting comfortable."

"Sir - "Gillette hesitated. "We received a tip-off, sir, and we've just confirmed it..." He trailed off. "Sir, I'm not quite sure how to tell you this, but..." He trailed off again, unsure how to break the news to the aged Governor.

"Well out with it, man!" snapped Governor Swann, waving the brandy glass, spilling more of the amber liquid. "I don't have all day!"

"Your daughter is missing, sir; believed to be dead."

Governor Swann dropped his glass to the floor where it shattered into a hundred glittering pieces. He paled and sat heavily down in his armchair. He raised a shaking hand to his face. "H - how - ?"

"Commodore Norrington has reasonable proof that it was the blacksmith, sir. He appears to have fled the city, and we've found evidence that Sparrow has recently visited the area. We suspect the blacksmith is in league with him, sir; and that the blacksmith killed your daughter and left with the pirates. The sea is frozen, so they can't have sailed. They have no horses; we believe they are on foot. If you agree to release the Commodore from prison and erase the charges against him, he is willing to lead the pursuit after them."

Governor Swann rose to his feet, his hands clenched in fists so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He trembled with combination of rage and sorrow and as he spoke, his jowlly chin wobbled. "Release Norrington. I'm coming with him."

Gillette nodded, saluted and dashed from the chamber. Governor Swann stared blindly after him. "Turner," he snarled. "I'm going to kill him with my bare hands!"

In a fit of violent rage, he struck the bottle of brandy still sitting on the table. It flew through the air and shattered on the wall. Heedless of the broken glass crunching underfoot, Governor Swann stalked out of the room to prepare himself for the hunt.

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Elizabeth was on the verge of a panic attack. "But - but - stole my soul! That means - that means - "

"Yes," interrupted Esperanza harshly. "While you appear to be in perfect health here, your body is dying. We have little more than two weeks before our souls will start to fade. And when they do, it means our body is close to death. We can only live for so long without the essential self, the soul, and whilst we will also waste away from lack of food and water, we will shrivel to little more than husks without our souls. Look." She held up her hands. They were transparent from her fingertips to her elbows. "I've been here longer than you. My time is already ending. I will die."

"How do you know Jack won't come for you?" Elizabeth asked. "Surely you have a little more faith in him than that."

"He abandoned me. I doubt he even remembers me. He will not come. " She sighed and looked upwards, as if searching for something more than mist. "I only take consolation in the fact that Alderman will fail in his attempt for revenge. Jack won't risk his skin for a woman he barely even recollects." Her voice took on a bitter tone. "He will live on while I die for a cause that is no longer mine."

"Why do you think he abandoned you? How do you know he just wasn't delayed?"

"I waited for near two months. He never came."

"Haven't you heard?" exclaimed Elizabeth incredulously. "His first mate betrayed him and marooned him on an island."

Esperanza, who had been walking a little way in the opposite direction, spun around. "What?" She ran back and dropped to her knees in front of Elizabeth's still seated form. "Tell me everything!"

Elizabeth proceeded to recount her recent adventure with Will, Jack, Barbossa and the cursed Aztec gold. When she had finished, Esperanza looked stunned. "Barbossa..." she whispered. "His first mate. Just like Alderman. And like Alderman, he betrayed him."

"You see?" said Elizabeth gently. "It's not his fault. Maybe he still loves you."

"I'm such a fool!" cried Esperanza violently. "Why didn't I give him a chance? Why? I'm just too goddamn proud!"

"If I know Jack," began Elizabeth, "then he's probably already caught up with my Will. They're quite good friends, y'know. If they're anything like what I think they are, they're on their way here to rescue us. Wherever 'here' is."

Esperanza looked into Elizabeth's face, her eyes shining. "Maybe Jack will come for me after all."

Elizabeth smiled. "Just like he promised."

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A/N: hey, i just realized sumthing. why would he have a fireplace? they live in the caribbean!

and thanks to y'all who leave reviews. appreciate IMMENSELY. u have no IDEA how helpful it is. it really gets me going.

and a thanks to all y'all who WILL be leaving reviews! (hint hint!)

just an update, but charles dickens had not killed me! (entirely. reviews will help keep me alive)

and i've written another oneshot called "fall to pieces" It's a songfic, but i think its more fic than song, so give it a try even if u generally dont like to read songfics cuz u cant b bothered to read the song bits. (like me)

u're all VERY appreciated by little moi. thanx!


	23. Chapter 23

**Disclaimer: **dont own POTC one or 2...

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Many days passed. Will, Jack and the crew made a slow and steady progress across the ice towards the Scorpion Bowl. Will was constantly hovering around the donkey-drawn cart, worrying about Elizabeth.

As Will abandoned his place in their little convoy to once again to head back to the cart, Jack caught his arm. "Will, there won't be any difference. We can't get there any faster an' Liz sure as hell isn't goin' anywhere. Just give yer fussin' a rest an'walk!"

Will pulled his arm angrily out of Jack's grasp. "Sorry for being concerned about someone I love, Jack. It's not like you would know how that would feel." Will stormed off towards the cart, missing the look of anguish on Jack's face as he turned to continue their march. _Ah, Will, me boy_, thought Jack regretfully, _if only y'knew. I know only too well how that feels...ever since - _

He stopped himself from completing the thought. It was still too painful to think about. How he had returned to Tortuga, dropped off by the rum-runners, and had found no sign of Esperanza. He'd gone to the inn where they had been staying, one of the cleaner ones on the nicer end of town where the clientele were of a slightly safer variety. Despite the fact that Esperanza had stood by his side through more than one hair-raising battle, he didn't like to put her at risk. That was why he had left her in Tortuga, with the promise to return to her in a month, a month and a half at most, treasure or no treasure. But unfortunately, Barbossa had had other plans...

When they had marooned him on that island and had left him to die, he had spent the better part of the first day and a half lying around wondering what the hell Esperanza must be thinking. She had told him she didn't want to be yet another link on his chain of stolen hearts. And she'd given him a token to remind him of it.

"Jack."

He had been dozing, propped up against the pillows in the bed with his hat tilted low over his eyes. When she spoke, he pushed the brim up and answered. "Yeah, love?"

"I don't want you to go."

"I wouldn't go if I di'n't hafta, love." He inwardly winced at the way his words sounded. It was so completely different from how he had talked before. It would take some getting used to on his part, but Esperanza assured him that his gruff, slurring baritone was just as attractive as before. And judging by the jealous looks from women in the dockside taverns, it was more than "attractive".

"Jack, I want to give you something," she said, coming over to sit on the edge of their shared bed.

Jack grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Really? I thought tha' y'gave that t'me last ni - "

Esperanza swatted his leg. "Not _that_, you scoundrel! That was yours long before you actually took it. I want to give you this." She reached underneath her hair and unclasped her necklace.

"So, after all this time, y've finally decided t'give me yer jewellery, eh? I said y'were free t'go when y'gave me yer baubles - do y'want t'be rid o' me?"

"No, Jack, I - " she began, startled at the sudden change of subject.

He held up his hands, cutting her short. "I was just remindin' ye, love. If y'want t'leave, don't hesitate. Just go. If y'want me t'drop off somewhere, just ask. I did hold ye 'gainst yer will, and as yer no longer my prisoner, yer a guest. An' guests can leave when they want to."

"I'd never leave you, Jack," she whispered softly. Then she seemed to shake herself and said in a brisker tone, "Anyway, _this_ is what I wanted to give you."

She dropped the necklace into his outstretched hand. He picked up the piece of jewellery by the chain and examined it.

It was a round piece of brilliantly polished silver, etched with serpentine designs. Three small chains were clasped onto the bottom of the pendant. Each of the chains split into two silver beaded strings. In the center of the pendant was a small, but perfectly cut ruby. As Jack held it up, the afternoon sun streaming through the stone cast tiny red sparkles on Esperanza's face.

"It's beautiful, love, just as you are." He looked up into her eyes and she blushed. "But I shouldn' take yer necklace. It's all y'have." He stuck out his hand, in an attempt to give it back to her.

"No, Jack," she said, gently but firmly, and folded his fingers over the necklace. "I've given it to you. It's yours, so you can remember me while you're off searching for the treasure of Isla de Muerta."

"I'll always remember ye, love," replied Jack, stroking the back of his fingers down her cheek. "And I'll always come back for ye. Promise."

Esperanza smiled through the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. "Just come back soon, alright?"

Jack enfolded her in his embrace, hugging her tightly. "I will, love. I will."

Jack sighed and shook the fragments of the memory away. He didn't want to think on it. If he knew Alderman, then he'd be out for revenge. Ben had always been a sore loser, and when it came to women, he was worst than most. He'd want Jack to pay for stealing Esperanza from him.

It didn't really matter. Esperanza had left Tortuga sometime during the Barbossa incident. She was a smart woman; she knew how to disappear without a trace. Courtesy of Jack's teachings. She'd be safe from Alderman.

But if Ben was anything like he was back then, he could be counted on to be consistent. He'd have _some_one Jack cared about in his clutches. As to who it could be, it was beyond his imagination. He just hoped Esperanza was safe, wherever she was.


	24. Chapter 24

**Disclaimer: **dont own POTC...

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Anamaria stared at the back of Jack's head as he marched steadily onwards. He stared at the ground in front of him, seemingly lost in thought. She wondered what he was thinking about. Probably the odds of them pulling this off and walking away alive.

She knew she didn't have much of chance with him; Jack wasn't the sort of man to see what was directly in front of him. He could see all the cracks in an inescapable situation, but when it came to the blindingly obvious, Jack was utterly hopeless. She knew there were others - how could anyone forget the tale of Jack's Tortuga Escapade: when he had...yeah, well, they all knew the story. And as improbable as it seemed (Jack dangling off the edge of a roof, completely drunk, his ankles held by the night's unpaid wenches, and singing very loudly an extremely lewd song about cleavage), it was unfortunately true.

But who knew what the future might bring?

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Deadeye Alderman gazed cruelly down as his men dumped the bodies of the five women across the obsidian altar. They were rolled onto their backs, heads and limbs flopping limply. Then the crew exited the stone cavern, moving as quickly as they could. Woe to them if they were still in the chamber when Ochiri appeared.

Alderman looked at the flask in hand. It could have been taken for a completely ordinary bottle, comtaining ale or rum, were it not for the faint golden glow emmenating from around the stopper. Within the bottle were the souls of six women.

Alderman cursed himself for not taking the Port Royal woman's body: in a moment of weakness, he had forgotten her needed the bodies for the ceremony. But the true importance lay in the souls, and he possessed them all. Each of the women whose souls he had stolen were all closely linked to pirates in some way: an Irish blackguard's daughter, a Jamaican pirate's dear cousin, a Mexican outlaw's wife, an American brigand's childhood friend, the blond-haired pirate's wench from Port Royal and then finally, Jack Sparrow's love. The one he himself had lusted after, only to have her plucked from beneath his nose by the young, charismatic pirate captain.

It didn't matter now. The women were just lures, bait to lure the pirates to their doom. Some of the Caribbean outlaws would die at Ochiri's hand, others from the arctic conditions by the curse's awakening. And yet others would kill each other fighting for the last remaining scraps of food. The pirates of the Caribbean were fated to die, and all those connected to them as well.

He looked down at the faintly luminescent flask and sniggered. If he knew Jack, he would be on his way to the Scorpion Bowl now, even as he carelessly tossed the chrystal Soul Bottle up into the air and caught it again. _Your time is near, Jack Sparrow_, he thought darkly. _But you won't die until I've torn your pathetic little heart right out of your chest. You won't survive her death, now will you? You'll follow her willingly won't you? Your time is near, Jack. Death is sniffing at your heels. It won't be long before it catches up._

He stepped up to the altar to begin the ceremony. It would take six days to fully complete the ritual, more than enough time to allow the six concerned pirates to catch up to him. It had to be six; always six. Six was the devil's number, a symbol of evil. Ochiri's soul was twisted in the grip of revenge, and when something originally good was perverted by evil, it was twice as powerful. She needed the summoning number of six to gain access to the real world from the spirit realm. As long there were six souls in the Soul Bottle, she could cross over.

And when she arrived, Jack would be stepping through the door to meet his own destruction.

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A/N: OMG, im SO sorry for not updating for so long! i moved overseas and i like, JUST got my computer back! that and since POTC 2 has come out this plotline is kinda obsolete...so i lost interest in it. (guilt...) HUMONGOUS thanks goes out to Shaded-Sky for reading my story and making me get off my butt and write. more will be forthcoming on this, so hang in there, we're getting to the end.


	25. Chapter 25

**Disclaimer:** Don't own POTC...

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On the twelfth day of their trek, Will wearily looked up from his trudging feet and saw a faint smudge off to his left on the horizon. Was it the Scorpion Bowl?

"Jack!" he called, jogging slightly to catch up with the aforementioned. "Is that it? Are we almost there?"

Jack didn't turn, but kept walking. "That's not it, me boy. Jus' shut yer mouth and keep walking."

"Why! We're walking away from it, Jack! If that's it, why aren't we heading straight for it?"

"Cuz that's th'island's disguise mechanism, ye fool! Yer s'posed t'keep the 'island' t'yer left and jus' keep walkin'. Ye'll reach it eventually. Most likely run right int'th'bloody thing..." added Jack dryly. And then he just kept on walking.

Will had just started to head back to the cart when he heard a loud thump and a profanity we won't repeat. (It involved sensitive body parts and very large knives; that's all you're ever going to know)

When he whirled around, Jack was kicking what appeared to be thin air, alternately holding his forehead and hopping on one foot. (It seemed kicking thin air was painful.)

"Jack?" called Will nervously. Maybe the infamous pirate captain had finally gone insane after all... "Are you alright?"

"Blasted island!" swore Jack, shaking a fist in the general direction of the sky. "Show yerself! Unless..." He stopped acting injured and made a beeline for the cart. "...unless it needs blood t'be opened..."

Will just stood there. He didn't know what to think. What the heck was Jack doing? Had they found the Scorpion Bowl? He squinted at the expanse of frozen wasteland in front of him, but all he could see was more ice.

Jack stormed past Will, brandishing a rather sizeable knife. He slowed, and with his hand extended in front of him, carefully continued. "Aha!" he cried, as he patted seemingly thin air. Then, with a slight grimace, he drew a line with the tip of the knife across his wrist. He waited a few moments until the blood was welling out of the cut, before expertly flicking it onto the invisible solid.

Instantly, the glamour was lifted, and all except Jack gasped in astonishment.

Rising sharply out of the ice was the sheer cliffs of the Scorpion Bowl.

As Will gaped witlessly up at the sudden apparition, Jack grinned impishly and replied, "We're walkin' away from it, eh, Mr. Turner?"

As Will tried to come up with a clever retort, Jack whirled away from him and addressed the rest of the column. "From 'ere on in, gents - and ladies - " Jack acknowledged Anamaria and the comatose Elizabeth with a nod, "we climb! Although," he added, turning to contemplate the vertical ascent they had to accomplish, "I dunno 'ow the hell we're s'posed ter get dear Miss Unconscious up there... oh well. UP!" he roared.

And then they climbed.

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Alderman opened his eyes, awakening from the trance-like state, and regarded the altar. All had gone as planned; swirling over the limp bodies of the women was a vivid blue portal. It was a livid scar on the face of the earth, something no human eyes should ever see. Lightning flashed within its depths, revealing jagged slices of the Otherworlds. Glimpses of Hell.

Alderman grinned, and turned as the first of the six pirates stumbled dazedly into the sacrificial chamber. The pirate's eyes widened as he saw the silhouetted figure standing before the hellish portal, and what was beginning to emerge from those spinning blue depths.

Ochiri had heard the call, and was coming to collect what was her rightful due.

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Governor Swann shivered against the cold, almost wishing he had stayed behind. He was too old for this sort of thing. But the blacksmith, who he had tentatively trusted with his daughter's safety, had killed Elizabeth. The Commodore, who he had assumed would kill Turner, had failed, resulting in Elizabeth's death. This was his chance to redeem himself.

They had been following the scurvy blacksmith's tracks for a long time now - Governor Swann had lost count of the hours. All he knew was that they were catching up, on horseback as they were. They couldn't be more than a few hours behind Turner and Sparrow.

And when they caught up - Governor Swann thought of nothing else. It was the only thing that had kept him going this loing. He repeated it over in his head over and over, a mantra of hatred: _I'll kill him myself, I'll kill him myself. _When they finally caught up with his daughter's killers - there would be no mercy. He would kill William Turner himself


	26. Chapter 26

**Disclaimer: **Don't own POTC, it all belongs to the mouse whose ears always face you no matter which way he turns his head...(it's true! check it out! mickey's ears NEVER move!) okay, sorry, that was random. Onto the good stuff.

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Will staggered slightly as his foot caught in a knarled tree root jutting up in his path. Jack reached out a hand to steady him, but it wasn't necessary. There was no way Will would fall. Not with the precious burden he cradled in his arms. They had had to abandon the cart at the base of the cliffs, so it fell to Will to carry Elizabeth.

Compared to the frigid conditions outside the island, the inside of the Scorpion Bowl was opressive. The thick jungle covering the inside of the Bowl was hard to navigate and filled with creatures that shrieked ominiously only a few feet away. Jack had warned them all to be as silent as possible, in hopes of avoiding the primeval monstrosities. They had had already encountered six foot long millipedes and tracks of at least four feet in diameter.

And that was enough. Despite the fact that the sinister rustling noises frequently came within several yards of them, nothing had ever revealed itself. But Will was uneasy enough as it was - if anything went wrong at this point Elizabeth could be permenantly separated with from her soul. Then she would die, leaving him alone. A world without without Elizabeth was beyond the reaches of his imagination. He did not want to live to see the day when she died. It did not bear thinking about.

Jack was mindlessly hacking away at the foliage in front of him when an inhuman cry ripped across their eardrums, causing more than one of them to clutch their ears in pain. It was no sound a human should make - yet Jack instinctively knew that was of human origin. It came from directly in front of them, but how far was anyone's guess. The jungle distorted many sounds and caused strange afflictions to the senses.

"Jack!" Will whispered urgently, standing just behind him. "What was that?"

Though Jack's heart was pounding from the sound as well, he shrugged nonchalantly. "Dunno mate," he stage whispered back, so the rest of the crew could hear. "Prolly jus' some animal gettin' eaten, 'r sumthin'." He shrugged and continued on his merry way, softly whistling as he chopped away at the plants in front of him.

Will regarded Jack's back suspiciously. As Jack was unreactive, Will merely shifted Elizabeth slightly before continuing on his way behind Jack. If he said that nothing was wrong, then there probably was. But if it wasn't going to pop out and eat them in an instant, Will wasn't overly concerned.

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Governnor Swann was hauled unceremoniously over the edge of the precipice, red-faced and out of breath. When the trail that they had been following ended abruptly in a blank space, with only a few drying blood drops as clue to their quarry's whereabouts, they had assumed the worst. If Commodore Norrington hadn't run into the invisible solid and cut his forehead, they never would have know this strange island was there. With ropes already dangling down the intimidating clifface, the climb had gone off without a hitch. Well, in the eyes of the younger, more spry soldiers. Governor Swann harboured no such opinion of their ascent.

They had descended about halfway into the island's bowl-like interior, following the broad swath cut into the verdure made by no doubt Turner and Sparrow, when an unearthly cry ripped through the air. One of the younger marines shinnied up a tree to try to find the source of the noise.

"There's a cave, sir! I think it came from there!"

Commodore nodded and turned to the governor, shrugging. "Probably some sort of animal, sir. Come down now!" he shouted up to the marine, and the youngling slid down the tree.

"I think I could see Turner and Sparrow, Commodore, sir! They're not too far ahead of us, and they're heading for that cave thing I mentioned, sir! We'll soon catch them!"

Commodore nodded and waved the soldier back into rank. He turned and grinned at the governor, a gleam of vengeance shining brightly in his eyes. "D'you hear that Gov'nor? In just a short while we'll both be getting revenge for the death of someone very dear to both of us."

The governor pulled his lips back in a feral smirk that did not befit his elderly features. The governor was corrupted by the desire for retribution. "Indeed, Commodore, indeed. FORWARD!"

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Elizabeth flinced as Esperanza abruptly cried out. "What is it?" Elizabeth asked urgently, trying to support the other woman as she threatened to collapse to her knees. "What's wrong?"

"It's the others - the other women that Alderman captured. He must have already started the ceremony, and I wasn't aware of it." She gritted her teeth and clutched her stomach. "And now he's starting on me. Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh..." she let her breath out in one long slow hiss. "After me it's you. You'd better hope Jack and your Will get her soon, or - " her voice caught and she fell to her knees, rocking back and forth moaning. " - or we're both done for."

Elizabeth turned away from Esperanza to stare upwards into the endless mist. "Where are you Will?" she whispered. "Why haven't you come?"

She glanced behind her as Esperanza groaned again. "Hurry, love," she said softly, though she knew there was no way he could hear her, "Hurry."

She closed her eyes in hopeless dispair for a moment. Then she went back to help Esperanza in any way she could.

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Jack, Will with Elizabeth in tow, and the rest of the crew crouched behind a row of convieniently placed shrubs, scoping out the situation within the cave. Some of the crew shifted uneasily behind him, making irritating rustling noises.

"Shhh!" berated Jack, waving a vague hand in their general direction. He then squinted again at the cave. A faint blueish glow was emmenating from the entrance, and he didn't quite know what to make of it.

Anamaria crept up behind him and knelt next to him. "Whaddaya reckon it is, Jack?"

"Captain," he corrected her automatically. "And I ain't got the faintest. Any ideas, lass?" He turned to look at her with those deep, brown, questioning eyes.

Anamaria found herself tongue-tied for a moment, which she managed to pass off as a moment of thought. "Prob'ly just some water in the cave, reflectin' the sunlight, or somethin'. "

Jack thought for a moment, and then accepted her explanation. "I always knew it wasn't bad luck t'have a woman on board." He motioned with his hand to the rest of the waiting crew. "C'mon lads, let's go check it out - slowly and in a quiet-like manner."

The party of pirate rescuers began their cautious advance on the cave.


	27. Chapter 27

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC...

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Alderman bowed deferentially to the indistinct figure hovering over the women's bodies. Four of those bodies were already dried and dessicated husks, their souls consumed along with those of their piratical relations and lovers. Ochiri was displeased - there were only five bodies on the altar. She had expected six.

Alderman cringed was Ochiri broke off her feeding to angrily demand why her requirements had not been met. She was a fearsome sight to behold - a shape roughly in the form of a voluptuous woman, she was at least twice his size. She had no distinguishable features, only a jet black color shot through with red lightning. She spoke in a demonic dialect, understood by only those who had sold themselves into her sevice. Like himself.

"Mistress, with all due respect, I can assure you that the remainder of you meal _will _be arriving shortly." He winced as she shrieked in anger. How could he be so certain? she demanded, or was he just trying to cover up his shortcomings?

"No, mistress, I - " He stopped and straightened as his sharp ears caught the sounds of footsteps in the entryway. "Here they come now."

Alderman spun around and opened his arms wide in mock welcome just as the first of the pirates entered the cave. "Jack Sparrow!" he boomed. "It's been far too long!"

Jack jerked in surprise at Alderman's voice. "So it WAS ye all along, ye slimy git!" he cried. "I shoulda known - and as a matter of fact, I did know!" He pulled his sword and sauntered forwards as the rest of Jack's followers emerged from behind him. "So why don't ye just hand over this young lady's soul and we'll leave ye t'the rest o' yer ritual thingy here, eh?"

Ochiri's attention was focused sole on the three in front. The one speaking was the lover of the woman she had begun to feed on. The others - the man carried the sixth woman and the remainder of her feast. When she had finished devouring their souls, she would be strong enough to exist constantly on Earth without Alderman's help. And then she could do away with him. But he just didn't realize it yet.

Alderman chuckled and waggled as chastising finger at Jack. "Nonononono, Jack, I think you'll be quite eager to stay. Fight to the death even."

Jack snorted rudely and waved his sword dismissively. "Fer what? You have nothin' that I care about, an' prolly never will, ye son of a - "

Jack stopped short as Alderman lifted one of the limp women, revealing her identity. "Not even someone you love, Jack?" Alderman whispered softly, deadly. "Not even for you beloved Esperanza?"

"Jack?" Will didn't like the way the normally unswayable pirate had frozen. "What is it? What's going on?"

Jack didn't even hear Will speak. All his world came crashing down as he stared at the pale figure lying on the altar. "Esperanza..." he whispered, not even realizing he had spoken out loud. He had thought she was gone forever, and yet here she was, all those years later, at the mercy of the one man he hated most. His mouth had gone dry as he tried to come up with a retort to Alderman's challenge. All the schemes he had had running through his head had suddenly vanished. In one fell swoop, the situation was utterly reversed. Witty Jack had run aground.

Alderman laughed evilly at Jack's stunned expression. At last he had outsmarted the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow. At last he had the upper hand. He could do anything he wanted now. Jack was at his complete and utter mercy. Or so he thought.

Just then, three things happened at once.

A monkey shot out of the portal and through his legs, startling him.

He dropped the Soul Bottle.

And Jack lunged for Esperanza.

Ochiri let out an unearthly shriek as the crystal Soul Bottle shattered into thousands of razor sharp fragments. The glow of the two souls trapped within rose and dissappated as the souls returned to their rightful places. As Esperanza opened her eyes, squinting in the harsh glare of the portal's light, Alderman drew his sword and charged at Jack. Jack shoved the dazed Esperanza behind him as he barely parried Alderman's first strike. The battle had begun. The feud that had begun nine years ago was about to be resolved.

Elizabeth blinked blearily as she slowly became accoustomed to having a body again. Gradually the world came back into focus and she realized she was looking up into Will's eyes. After what had seemed to be an eternity, she was exactly where she had been when Alderman had taken her: in Will's arms.

"Hey," she said hoarsely.

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead. "Can you stand? This isn't exactly the best place for reunions."

She nodded and he gently set her down. He barely managed to turn as Alderman's crew came bursting in. Will drew his sword and parried their charge. Elizabeth stumbled backwards and tried to figure out what was going on. Jack and Alderman were engaged in furious combat, while Esperanza was stabbing a crewman with a fragment of the broken Soul Bottle. Will was swordfighting the crew, as she had just seen. And since she had no weapon, she was pretty useless at the moment. Suddenly there was a shrill grating cry from the direction of her feet. She knew that sound. Slowly, with much trepidation, she looked down.

It was the monkey.

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A/N: DUN DUN DUN!!!!!!!!


	28. Chapter 28

**Disclaimer: **don't own POTC

A/N: last chappie!!! i think it'll be good. don't worry, there's still an epilogue

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Esperanza couldn't believe it. Jack had come from her. Just like Elizabeth had said he would. And now after this battle was over, they could finally be together again. She fought the crew mechanically, not really seeing the men attacking and dying before her. Her thoughts were already planning ahead to what she and Jack would be doing in the near future. Pirating, sailing, freedom...and then she heard a clatter and a loud cry of triumph. It was not Jack's voice.

She ground the broken bottle neck into her opponent's gut and whirled. What she saw was enough to make her blood run cold. Jack stood before Alderman, weaponless, arms spread in a gesture of surrender. Alderman grinned and reached for his pistol.

Everything seemed to slow. She started forward, desperate to reach Jack before Alderman drew his gun. Jack, almost instantly dove for his sword, only a few feet away. He reached it and stood, just as Alderman pulled out his gun and adjusted his aim to compensate for Jack's movement. He pulled the trigger and time snapped back to normal.

Will, with a final yell, yanked his cutlass out of the last crewman's dying body, grateful that Esperanza had been competent enough to deal with the rest. Then he realized there was dead silence. He was halfway turned around when there was a loud cry of distess and a simultaneous gunshot. Will finished the turn and took in the scene before him.

Elizabeth was fine. That was his main concern. He could see her standing to one side with his peripheral vision. But even as he registered this, Alderman gurgled, blood running down his chin, and collapsed onto the floor. He lay there twitching for several seconds before the life in his eyes faded forever. Jack was crouched on the floor, cradling the head of a strange woman in his lap. And he was crying. That alone was enough to scare the shit out of Will.

Esperanza stared up into Jack's face, numbly observing the pain as from a great distance. All the plans, the wild and crazy schemes she'd had for them were dissappating as fast as mist on a sunny morning. When she had diven for Alderman, she'd never expected that he would change his aim from Jack to her. He'd missed her heart, but she could feel the bullet lodged in her lung, could feel the air leaking out of her punctured organ to fill her chest, slowly obstructing her breathing. She had a long slow death ahead of her, unless she decided otherwise.

Jack was frantically trying to staunch the blood gushing out of her wound. She raised her hands and stopped his efforts. He stared uncomprehendingly at her restraining hands before lifting his gaze to look her in the eyes.

"Jack - " she began, then cut herself short. She felt something running down her chin and tasted a metallic flavor in her mouth. Jack reached forward and wiped it off. His fingers came away bloody.

"Esperanza - "

"Don't Jack," she rasped, half-choking on the blood bubbling up in the back of her throat. "It's no use. The bullet's in my lung. You'll never reach it." Then she rolled onto her side, coughing violently, spraying vermillion beads of blood across the dusty stone floor. She then forced herself back to her original position, panting. It was becoming increasingly difficult to breathe. The pressure in her chest was slowly crushing her lungs to the point where she had to struggle to inhale.

"Why does this happen?" said Jack hopelessly. He stopped trying to staunch the blood. He trusted Esperanza enough to believe what she had said about it being no use. He brushed her hair out of face, and traced a finger down her jawline. "Why couldn't we have had more time?"

Esperanza tried to say something, something to console him. But she found with faint surprise, she could barely breathe. Her lungs were getting crushed, and she was beginning to drown in her own blood. Things were starting to fade, and her body was slowly growing numb. It was too late for her. Too late for her and Jack to make things right again. But she was alright with that. She'd been trapped in the Soul Bottle for so long that she'd come to be familiar with the idea of death. Her only regret was that Jack was going to have to learn to live without her. He would have to go on alone.

"Jack," she whispered. "It hurts."

Jack's eyes were glistening with unshed tears, but his cheeks remained dry. Carefully, he slid his arms under so he held her closer to him. "I know, love," he said, his voice shaking slightly. He kissed her forehead. "I know."

"Jack." Esperanza tried again. She had to ask him before she could no longer speak. "You have to kill me."

"What?!" he cried, aghast. "No! I - I can't!"

"Do it!" she rasped. "If you don't - " she stopped, gasping for breath. " - then I will suffer until my death. Do you want that?"

Jack stared down at her, torn in an agony of indecision. He didn't want her to suffer, but how could he kill the one person who meant everything to him? How could he end her life? Maybe there was a chance, a hope that she would be alright, and it was just the pain making her say these things. But in his heart, he knew that was just a fool's dream. Esperanza was dying. She was slowly suffocating on her own blood. He knew what he had to do. He just didn't know if he was strong enough to do it.

Jack pulled her closer to him, resting his forehead against hers. A single tear fell to land on Esperanza's cheek. "I love you," he whispered. Then he pulled out his pistol and cocked it back, locking the last shot into the chamber. The forbidding click echoed throughout the cavern.

Esperanza looked up at him one last time, her eyes glittering with pain, love and gratefulness. Then Jack bent forward, and kissed her. One last deep kiss, a kiss that expressed all his love and regrets.

Then, with his lips still on hers, he put the gun to her temple.

His hand slid up to cradle the back of her head.

And then he pulled the trigger.

The gunshot reverberated in the silence, and Esperanza went limp in Jack's arms.

Jack broke the kiss and dropped the pistol. A cry of inhuman anguish tore out of his throat, and the tears that he had held back flowed freely down his face. He pressed his forehead against Esperanza's, rocking back and forth in the pain of a lover left behind.

Elizabeth drifted over to Will, and buried her face in his chest. Esperanza had been her friend, despite the short time she had known her. She did not want to see her like this. She wanted to remember Esperanza as she had been, not lying cold and dead in Jack's arms.

Will wrapped his arms around Elizabeth, holding her close, thanking God that it was not her who had died. He could not tear his eyes away from the tragic sight on the floor before the portal. He had never seen Jack like this, had never thought that Jack was capable of feeling so deeply, hurting so deeply, loving so deeply. Suddnenly, Will couldn't bear to watch any longer. He turned away from Jack and Esperanza, leaving Jack to grieve in private.

"Well, well, well," a familiar voice rang out. "What have we here?"

Everyone in the cave whipped around to find none other than Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann.

Governor Swann stepped forward, his face contorted with hatred and rage. "William Turner, you are under arrest for the murder of my daughter, Elizabeth!"

Commodore Norrington, however, stood staring, slack-jawed. Elizabeth was alive and well, standing right beside the so called accused. What on earth - ? It was obvious that Elizabeth was fine, so the charges against Will were instantly dropped. So why was Governor Swann still acting as though Elizabeth was dead? Was he so bent on revenge that he would stop at nothing to get it?

Suddenly, there was an explosion of noise and light. The portal changed from the vivid blue to a sickly green color. The lightening within it flashed more and more rapidly until the portal split in two. A hand wearing a familiar ring reached through it. It groped about for a second before it seized Ochiri. It yanked her through the portal. Ochiri shrieked as she was sucked back to hell for all eternity. And then through the rip emerged Elizabeth's worst nightmare come true.

He had crept up from the deepest circle of hell, the circle reserved for bertayers and mutineers. He was both. He had followed Ochiri to the surface, and now was emerging to take her place in the world of the living. He was bound by the same rules that she had been, but he didn't care. He had returned to fufill a single purpose: revenge. He had returned from the grave to carry it out.

Captain Barbossa.

Out of the shadows, the monkey emerged, and leapt up onto his shoulder. Barbossa stepped away from the gateway, laughing sinisterly. He looked down from his perch on the altar at the shell-shocked crowd.

"A welcoming committee. How decent of ye." He grinned and focused his attention on the one person who wanted to have it the least. "Ah, miss Elizabeth. So kind of ye to join us, so I may exact my revenge for yer trickery the last time we met." He pulled out his pistol and started towards her.

Elizabeth whimpered and tried to hide behind Will, but at that exact moment, Governor Swann decided to try to lunge for Will.

Barbossa fired, not even pausing to see who it was he was shooting. "SHE'S MINE!!!" he bellowed. "She must pay back fer trying to delay my quest for the Aztec gold. No one is to move, D'YOU HEAR ME?!?!"

Elizabeth was too horrified to speak, let alone scream or move. Her father lay on the floor, his eyes glazed over and blood oozing from the bullethole directly between his eyes. Governor Swann was dead.

Barbossa glared around the room, making sure no one was going to interfere with his conquest for revenge. Then he continued his slow and steady advance towards Elizabeth.

Will stepped in front of her, ready to face down Barbossa, to the death if necessary. He was not prepared to see Elizabeth lying dead on the cold stone floor. But suddenly someone spoke.

"Barbossa."

Barbossa spun around. Standing by the altar was the man who had killed him. Jack Sparrow.

Jack's shoulders were slumped, and his breathing shuddered. His eyes were red and his cheeks were damp. Streaks of black kohl ran down his face, marking where the tears had been. His hands and shirt were spattered and smeared with blood. Esperanza's blood. But the thing that had Barbossa riveted was not the fact that the notorious Jack had been crying. No. It was what this shattered soul held in his hands that had Barbossa capivated.

In his hands he held Alderman's pact with Ochiri. The reason the portal had been created. The reason why it was still open. The reason Barbossa was still here, and not in hell where he belonged.

"No!" cried Barbossa, and started towards Jack, gun drawn.

Jack smiled faintly as Barbossa rushed forward. "For Esperanza," he whispered, so quietly that no one heard him. Then he ripped the parchment in half.

A huge explosion of light blinded everyone in the cave. A roaring sound filled the air and a powerful suction started pulling everything towards the rapidly shrinking portal. Though it was difficult for most everyone to resist the wind, Barbossa found it nigh impossible. He struggled and fought, but to no avail. Within several minutes, he was halfway into the portal. Then with one last shriek of dismay and dispair, Barbossa and the gateway to hell vanished.

The air stilled and everything went silent. For a moment no one moved. Then Elizabeth gave a small cry and fell to her knees beside her father. She rolled him over and shook him slightly, as if trying to rouse him. Then the harsh reality sank in and she started crying.

Will gently took her by the shoulders and levered her to her feet. "Elizbeth, it's no use. He's gone."

Elizabeth flung her arms around him and broke down. She had just lost her father and friend in a few short minutes. For a while, no one spoke, unsure what to say if they did. Jack knelt by Esperanza's body, observing Elizabeth cry with emotionless eyes. Esperanza was gone. He didn't care anymore.

Finally Commodore Norrington spoke. "Perhaps it's better this way. The governor was not himself. He was corrupted by the desire for revenge. It twisted him beyond all reason."

"But he was still my father!" said Elizabeth brokenly.

"We should return to Port Royal. We have to tell the rest of the city and send word to England."

Elizabeth nodded and, with Will's arm around her shoulders, started to slowly walk out of the cave. For a moment, no one moved. Then Jack scooped up Esperanza and morosely followed. One by one, they filed out of the cave, pirate and soldier united by the tragdy they had witnessed in the cave.

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A/N: didn't that make you sniffle at least? Poor jack...Im so mean to my characters, aren't I? Okay, here's the epilogue


	29. Chapter 29

**Disclaimer: **dont own POTC...

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EPILOGUE

Elizabeth stood in her bedroom, reflecting on the events of nearly a year before. When they had arrived at the edge of the Scorpion Bowl, they had discovered that the ice had melted. But not soon after, the _Black Pearl _arrived, crewed by the guard Jack had left with the ship in Tortuga. The_ Pearl _had taken them back to Port Royal, and in exchange for their passage, Commodore Norrington had once again let Jack go.

At the funeral for her father, Elizabeth had looked out to the horzon and had seen the Black Pearl slide away over the horizon. Jack had taken Esperanza's body, saying that he would bury her where she loved most. Where that was, he didn't say.

Anamaria had followed Jack, his shoulder to cry on. His friend. And possibly, as Jack lived on after Esperanza's burial, his lover.

A few short months after Jack had left, Will had proposed. With a new governor arriving from England, there was no need for Elizabeth anymore. She was finally free to live as she pleased. With Will. After the wedding, they had moved to a small but comfortable house by the seaside on the outskirts of town. Corporal George Sanders, the man who had arrested Commodore Norrington oh so long ago, and indeed spoken to his superiors. Will now owned the blacksmith shop, and Mr. Brown was now a wandering drunk. Within a few months, Will had prospered, and had taken on an apprentice.

Elizabeth smiled and rested a hand on her protruding belly. She was nearly six months pregnant, and feeling fine. Will was giddy with joy and sheer nerves - he was going to be a father! Commodore Norrington had at last moved on and had found himself a lady. He had been courting her for nearly as long as Elizabeth and Will had been married. He and Elizabeth were close friends now, and he had told her that he was considering asking for her hand in marriage.

The door opened and Elizabeth turned. She smiled at seeing Will. He shrugged his jacket off and chucked it onto a spare chair. Then he crossed the room and kissed her.

"How was your day?" she enquired quietly, as he held her close, staring out the window to the sea.

"Fine," he replied. "Matthew - " (his apprentice) " - has learned how to properly stoke the forge now. He's doing quite well, and he's a quick learner. How about you? Are you feeling okay?"

Elizabeth smiled and leaned back against him. "I've never been better." She turned around and faced him. Will smiled and, gently taking her face in his hands, kissed her. Everything was at last well in Caribbean.

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A/N: Wow, this has been the hardest thing I've ever written, it being the first story I've EVER finished. Thanks go out to everyone whose stuck with me through the LOOOOOOONG time it took me to finish this. You guys kept me going, so I'll try to think of something to write for you guys. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, thanks to everyone who will review (hint hint!), and thanks to everyone who read the whole thing, even if you didn't review. ME LOVES YA ALLL!!!! ARRRGGHHHH!!!!!


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